Broken Antler Fen We don't need to be related to relate.

As it turned out, the tree growing atop the Hobbit Hole was a pink dogwood. Soft rosé blossoms scattered underfoot as Towhee exited the den with a purposeful step. She left the puppies in capable hands as she traveled to the southern borders, then beyond them. She couldn't stop thinking of that tree or the lovely home they kept underneath it, in the very ground she sometimes still thought of as cursed.

There was something on her mind. Towhee hadn't mentioned it to anyone else just yet, though she might give voice to it today. The Sovereign arrived at the outskirts of the fen and stopped. She drew in a breath, admiring the springtime scenery a moment before raising her head and howling for @Wraen.