Whitefish River Lost in reverie until I saw her fading silhouette.

Are you sure it wasn’t a bear? Towhee interrupted, eyes glimmering fondly. She really enjoyed wrangling bears.

She did not otherwise interrupt Dwin’s musings. Of course, talking about her dead godparents made Towhee’s heart ache a little—she still missed them, even after all this time—but mostly it just felt good to reminisce about them. When was the last time she’d had an opportunity to swap stories with someone who would appreciate them quite this much? Her heart skipped a beat at the use of the term “grandpa.”

Towhee didn’t really know what to make of the question, saying, I guess a little of both. They raised me, you know. So I like to think I take after each of them in various ways. She hummed. I bet you’re like your Grandma Finley though, right? A whimsical adventurer?