Firefly Glen We should all wear polka dots.

Towhee didn’t catch what Alaric said, though even from this weird angle, she could see the expression on his face. Hers probably looked similar. She still tensed when he moved nearer, though she’d asked him to take a look and he’d said he wasn’t hungry…

I’m pretty sure it’s a boy, she said as Alaric examined the lil’ guy. Thinking of poor X—misgendered for years—she couldn’t help but wonder, Maybe I should give him a name and, like, try to look after him, especially if he’s hurt. Is he…?

But before the envoy could provide any particular prognosis, the tiny bat suddenly exploded into flight, his little wings brushing both wolves’ faces as he fluttered upward. Towhee’s mouth twisted into a sad little moue as her eyes followed his skyward spiral, though he just as soon boomeranged back and somewhat haphazardly landed on the joint where her tail connected to her hindquarters.

Uh, she said articulately, bending in half to sniff at the little creature. I guess nothing’s broken then, Towhee surmised, secretly very pleased that he’d chosen to continue using her as a roost. Dangerous choice of landing pad though, little buddy.