Redsand Canyon Whack fall the daddy-o.

You will, Towhee replied simply, nudging the carcass closer with a toe. If you accept this, that means we’re hitched officially. ‘Cause that’s totally how this works where I’m from: we exchange a dead rat to seal the deal on all business transactions. Of course, there was no truth to that whatsoever, but there also wasn’t anything remotely traditional about this entire arrangement, including the two wolves entering into it.

Giving him one last you-better-eat-this-rat-or-this-marriage-is-null-and-void look, Towhee sighed and retreated to the rear of the den, where she flopped onto a ragged old deerskin. Realizing she had taken up the entire thing out of pure habit, she scooted over to make room for her new mate. Gods, that was a weird thing to think. She didn’t like it. For that matter, she didn’t like the words “husband” and “wife” either.

I’m going to think of you and refer to you as my partner, Towhee announced decisively, and in case you’re confused by that ominous ‘you will,’ your gift to me will be giving me children and then helping me raise them.