Redhawk Caldera What do you call a French dog that loves potatoes?

The news about Bronco took her by surprise, albeit in a good way. She didn't even think about the circumstances of his acceptance. Maybe Phox had given him the nod before departing in search of Niamh—did that fit the timeline? What the fuck was time anymore, anyway?—or perhaps Fennec herself had welcomed him. It wasn't like Towhee would have any qualms with allowing him back into the fold, so she said, "That's great. Definitely."

Fennec claimed there was nothing else going on with her aside from herbs and shit, and Towhee gave her a speculative look as an errant thought crossed her mind. She wondered if her daughter knew anything that could drug the pups, put them all to sleep for a little while. She then chided herself for even thinking it. It couldn't possibly be safe to dose such little ones, plus she would never really consider doing something like that. It was just an intrusive thought.

Shaking it off, she said, "I never thanked you, for helping me with the birth. I really appreciated you being there. I hope it was a learning experience." Towhee laughed dryly.