Redhawk Caldera Tretale.

Killdeer accepted her terms, following a contemplative pause. Towhee gave him a small grin, which grew when he closed the distance between them and pressed against her. Her grandson’s hugs were always welcome, even when he muttered unheard things against her shoulder.

Are you shit-talking me? she teased, then proved she was not really interested in an answer by slinging her forelegs around him and keeping him close. Thank-you, by the way. It really does mean a lot.

She let herself savor the embrace for a moment, eyes slipping shut. Perhaps it made sense to spend her final years in the place where she’d been born. Maybe she would die here and end up buried near her parents. As if in response to that thought, her mind produced an image of another place—and a face to go with it—and Towhee knew that if she had any choice when the time came, she would not die here.

If you have a couple of hours to kill, we should do a walkabout, she said to Killdeer, finally releasing him and stepping back. It’ll be a slow one, she warned, frowning at her leg, but it’s more about who’s with me than where we’re going anyway, right?

Wanna fade here?