The Sentinels Flower, gleam and glow

Despite the grim topic, he laughs at her wink and counters, I’m just a baby.

He winks right back, though, because while he’s still young—just a few weeks shy of official adulthood—he’s most definitely not a baby. More like jailbait. Bushtit’s easygoing grin takes on a more feral demesne, particularly at her next question.

Isn’t that exactly what tramp means? he says, winking again. But, yeah, I’m a traveler. Have been since the day I was born. Literally.

He doesn’t bother elaborating, though the tale reminds him of his mother. He glances south, where the caldera sits somewhere beyond view. Bushtit can’t wait to see her, see how things are going there. Towhee will want to hear all about his shenanigans too, every last detail he’s willing to give.

But for the first time in his life, there are things he doesn’t think he’ll want to tell his mother. He doesn’t think she’ll balk, necessarily, if he tells her about his conquests. She might even be proud, especially because he’s still pretty young, at least until he informs her he’s been sleeping around with women many times his own age—closer to hers, in fact.

Biting his lip again, Bushtit shoves that thought down and says to Soleyna, My family lives around here, though, so I visit on the reg. You ever heard of the Redhawks?