Redsand Canyon And I used to fly like Peter Pan, all the children flew when I touched their hands.

They groomed one another dry in mutual, companionable silence. When she was more damp than wet, Towhee let out a sigh and stopped running her tongue over Maxim’s pelt. Her bones still ached, probably due to the chill. But a subtle warmth suffused her skin due to her partner’s attentions and proximity.

Staring out into the rainfall for a few beats, Towhee’s eyes were distant and unfocused when she abruptly said, I was thinking about names. She blinked, then turned her head to catch Maxim’s eye. Naming conventions, to be more specific. All my kids are named after animals, many of them birds. I’d like to keep to tradition, if that’s alright with you. Do you have any…?