Lake Rodney Where does a mind like yours wonder

The image Quail painted in her mind put a pit in Treepie’s stomach. Hairless beasts who walked on two legs… it was difficult to imagine and, naturally, her imagination ran away with it. She shuddered a little and decided she didn’t want to hear any more. But Quail wasn’t finished. Pie felt actual nausea hit her when her acquaintance described their young as “sticky.”

I’ve heard enough, she said faintly, feeling rather rude. She’d asked, after all. I’m sorry, they just sound… Well, Quail didn’t seem to mind them, so Pie didn’t know if she ought to share her real thoughts. Strange, she found herself echoing the woman’s own words, indeed.

A slightly awkward pause ensued. Tiuttuk knew she should be the one to fill it, to say something to redirect the conversation. But as her yellow eyes lingered on the leather belted at Quail’s throat, she found she wanted to get away from here—away from her, specifically. That was more than rude, though Pie simply couldn’t silence her instincts.

They’ll be wondering where I went off to, so I should head back, she said, which was true enough. Pie let out a sigh that was entirely authentic. ‘They’ being the Redhawks… what’s left of my family in the area. They live there, she added, pointing at the caldera’s silhouette in the darkness. Good night.

Feeling more than a little uneasy, Pie pivoted and began walking back toward the caldera. She heard the soft rush of Wyvern’s wings overhead as she accompanied her. She didn’t think she would go too far into the territory, if she went into it at all. There were some trees growing here and there along its foot. She decided she would settle beneath one of those for the night.