Hushed Willows there's a syncopated beat

Dusty bobbed his head, acknowledging Reina's praise. Privately, he was of the opinion that it didn't take a pack. Not really. He'd grown up with older siblings, of course, but those earlier litters? His parents had raised them in seclusion. Dusty Rose was half tempted to mention this, because he was proud of the rawboned and vicious stock he came from, and he was sorta proud of Reverie, too — to be associated with her at all, he supposed, precisely because she didn't need him.

It was just that there was something to be said for job security, and Dusty Rose was nothing if not pragmatic.

"Just doing my part, ma'am," he said, upbeat and sincere. His bottlebrush tail wheeled with manufactured enthusiasm that he very quickly bought into himself — after all, what wasn't there to be happy about? "Why don't you come with me?" he suggested, deciding that a chaperone wouldn't go amiss. Reverie trusted this woman, didn't she? Everyone would probably rest a little easier if he didn't see the kids without a witness — himself included.

He picked up the grouse and offered Reina a rakish grin around the feathers: Ladies first.