The Sentinels Flower, gleam and glow

Something like that, he agrees breezily, once again refusing to elaborate.

His eyes track her movements as she pads to a tree and sits, back rested against its scarred base. After a brief hesitation, Bushtit decides he can spare a few more minutes and mimics her, sliding down against the tree beside hers. He rests his right shoulder against it, his face pointed toward Solenya.

Well, there’s a ton of them and they’re spread all over the place, though I’m mostly here to visit my mom. His face and voice go soft when he mentions Towhee. And my padre, probably. She lives at the caldera, he’s a little further south. You ever been to the lowlands?

Solenya probably wants more than that. He imagines she’ll ask about his parents, why they’re not in the same place. Bushtit doesn’t mind sharing but he’ll wait for her to ask. In the meantime, he rubs his pale shoulder against the tree’s rough bark, taking care of a mild itch there.