Grouse Thicket Radio wake.

It’s still a few days hence, so this is dated ambiguously following Meerkat and co’s departure.

The day had finally come. They were gone. And though Towhee’s world was always dead silent, it felt particularly quiet as she turned from her post at the borders—gazing into the distance, as if she might catch a glimpse of them still—and began the first of many rigorous patrols.

When she finished, she couldn’t bring herself to go back to The Taigh yet. It would be strangely empty. Instead, Towhee ventured afield. She wouldn’t go far. In fact, she stopped just past the second fork of the creek that formed the copse’s western border and stared into the thicket a little ways ahead.

She stood there so long, her feet began to ache. Huffing under her breath, Towhee moved forward into the undergrowth. Within the hour, twilight would be upon her. It seemed a prime time to scrounge up some small game to take home to feed the few mouths left in the copse.