Luneshale Pass It’s time to kill the lights and shut the DJ down.

Rather than respond in any way, Soto stared off into the distance. Towhee stared too, right at the side of his face. One eyebrow inched its way up her own face as the moments ticked past. Had he understood any of that? Was he turning it over in his mind, perhaps doing some sort of translation? Sometimes, she had to do things like that.

So she stayed patient and silent, though both brows rose when he finally acknowledged her again—with his foot. Towhee glanced down at where he reached for her, warm toes grazing her forelimb. He patted her. Towhee blinked, then looked up at him, trying to read his face.

Okay then. Towhee paused before moving to return the gesture by awkwardly patting Soto’s nearer elbow. Good talk.