Sun Mote Copse Should have bought myself a home when I was a fetus.

The doe-like woman took a step backward, signaling her intent to disembark a moment before she vocalized it. Towhee’s lips parted, though she couldn’t—and didn’t want to—argue with Tziporah’s logic. She merely offered a simple farewell, punctuated by a nod, eyes tracking the dog’s movements until she disappeared into the distance.

The guilt continued to tug at her. Should she have persuaded Tziporah to at least meet with Meadow, even if it might’ve proved to be a waste of both women’s time? Had Towhee just let a potential body slip away during the copse’s greatest time of need? She also felt a flash of resentment, which prompted a hard swallow. The responsibility for things like this should not have fallen on her old shoulders alone, or at all.

With a switch of her tail, the Redhawk turned and padded back toward The Taigh to fetch her son. She wanted to snatch him up and run off for the hills herself, though instead they would play and eat together before eventually seeking out the Morningside-Ebonywood family.