Dahozhoni Meadow he was living on borrowed time

unfortunately, towhee starts with a low snarl, bristling of her guard hairs as she catches the movement of him out of her peripheral vision. the first time she is admittedly aware of his presence.

hawk eyes sharp, she catches it and spins to turn to face him in full; each muscle pulled tense.

and though she itches to attack, there is distance enough between them and as of the moment he does not appear hostile, though each moment feels aching, like blood pumping beneath a bruise.

but it is not near enough for her to let her guard down.

-who are you?- she demands in ptero, knowing that the movements of her paws in the sign language shared between her and her kin ( blood or otherwise ) was likely not to be understood. it is done, mostly, out of knee jerk reaction and borne out of habit.