Sunset Valley backbone

He reacted with a grimace and a shake of his pelt at her spittle. None of it had gotten on him, but he felt that he had to match her badly-suppressed laugh with his own quirky brand of dramatics. He wrote a note to future Gavrel: don't take yourself too seriously, a half-hearted edict he would no doubt be disobeying many times over.

Good, good, he responded, amused that it was Masque who was divulging this information, and not Redd herself. He wished he could say more, say something thought-provoking or reassuring, but again, his social skills did not measure up to the task.

Sister-packs, she said. Literally, he quipped in what he thought was a slick riposte, his grin now more confident and honestly closer to shit-eating than anything else.

Hope to see you and Riley often. And the kids, of course, he spoke this time with real warmth.

At the sight of Masque's curved stomach he couldn't help but wonder when Redd's own heat would come, a biological machination of which he had only a vague understanding (and a healthy amount of fear).

He toyed with the vision of two litters growing up side by side, one of the Rise and the other of the Ridge (he did like the alliteration, rise-ridge and ridge-rise, say that ten times as fast) but even this tableau was too sentimental for him, and he banished it with a flick of his ears.