Ouroboros Spine My night with the prostitute from Marseille.

He let his gaze linger on Bushtit for a moment, offering a small tilt of his head in welcome. “Strong pup,” he remarked quietly, remembering how close that choking had been. “You do good,” he said to Towhee, his tone rough but sincere. “He alive, that most important. No more skull in mouth,” he teased gently, the ghost of a smile creasing his features.

When she mentioned staying put, he settled back onto his haunches, tail giving a slow sweep against the ground in an unmistakable gesture of ease.

“I stay,” he rumbled. “No rush. Nice… meet mother, pup. I Luhtar.” He shrugged broad shoulders, letting silence fill the gap for a breath before adding in a quieter tone, “If you want company, I have no complaint.”