Bramblepoint Pull together for the clan and kin.

Fair enough. Bushtit really had grown up, he thought, with a sympathetic look toward Towhee. He was probably her last child; Killdeer doubted she'd be able to have more at her age.

Then again, lil' Buttshit had been a surprise in that regard.

He was about to reply to his grandmother when a high, querulous voice rang out behind him. He turned, slowly, to meet Treepie's gaze, his shoulders sagging a bit at the shock in her face. 

Ah, shit.

I've been thinking about it, kiddo, he told his daughter, figuring honesty was the best policy here. It's been something I've been thinking about for a while, actually. And with your mother gone, and our numbers down. . . Well, I haven't made a decision yet, but I will soon.

Killdeer gestured her forward to join the conversation. Gramma Towhee would be there with us, he explained, smiling at the seasoned woman. Amalia, too, and any kids we might have. And you, of course, are more than welcome.

Would she leave the Spear? It was clear she saw it as her destiny, to inherit the mantle of leadership from Sialuk. And being a homebody and all. . .

He paused and swallowed, waiting for Treepie's response.