Redhawk Caldera bidibodi bidibu

“A new recruit, huh?” says a voice behind him.

Bushtit raises his head, the odor of a strange man lingering in his nostrils as he turns to look over his shoulder. He blinks almost owlishly at the woman as he spins to face her, barely registering her words. He’s too busy looking her over from head to toe.

Ayyy, we’re like long-lost twins! he observes with a twitch of his tail. Her words register and he grins as he adds, I guess that makes sense, since you’re my spirit guide. What’s this ritual involve?

Gods, he feels smooth. Bushtit remembers the days—not so long ago—when he felt completely wrongfooted around women. He’s come so far in just these last few months, he thinks, snorting a little at his dirty mind’s phrasing.