Honeyed Pasture agamemnon returned to his wife

tzar nods along, as if he understands the depths of the other woman's words. he only know he wishes to return to slumber, and put to ease his mother's impatient little huffs behind him; not quite understanding that she was reading the other woman's lips. he just knew that she always knew how to answer.

though, usually, everyone else that he'd seen her interact with had understand ptero and he hadn't needed to play the ever-heroic translator.

he lingers close to towhee but shifts his body so that the stranger remains in his side vision but that he could read his mother's ptero.

mama says we look for gra-gandmama? tzar motions the ptero for 'grandma' but stumbles over the word. towhee! he chirrups the name, finding it fun to say. he turns back to face the woman, pleased with himself only to let out a small grunt when his mother bumps him on the butt with her muzzle. tank you.

ugh, manners.