Ouroboros Spine My night with the prostitute from Marseille.

He wasn’t from Moonglow, though Towhee missed the name of his pack and the next several words when she saw Bushtit cough. She clapped him on the back more gently now, giving him a concerned once-over before returning her gaze to their new acquaintance in time to catch, “—welcome mother of pup if behave.”

You’ll never meet a more well-behaved child, Towhee told him with some measure of pride, and it’s not just ‘cause he nearly died just now. He’s perfect even when he’s fully operational. A few more soft pats before she concurred, We are a bit taxed after that, huh?

She slipped her paw from her son’s back and pointed a toe at the skull. Bushtit shook his head, unwilling to pick it up again. Towhee frowned at the loss but decided it wasn’t worth the choking hazard. She hesitated, then very suddenly scooped it up and flung it away with all the force she could muster.

YEET! she bellowed for Bushtit’s entertainment.

She turned to see her son smiling and rubbing his chest a little. Towhee frowned and stepped toward him, offering nuzzles of comfort. He was out of danger, though she imagined the shortness of breath and discomfort would linger a while longer. She made an executive decision in that instant not to move from this spot for a bit.

I think we’re just gonna park here for now. You’re welcome to hang with us if you like. I didn’t catch your name. We’re Towhee, she offered, gesturing at herself, then at her inverted copy, and Bushtit.