Moonspear needful things

Once she reached her destination, Tiuttuk bent down to nose among the loam. There were many scents to sift through; she tried to suss out the most promising among them. As she winnowed, her ears flicked in response to approaching footfalls. She did not lift her head until Kira’s familiar voice filled her ears.

She snorted a little and straightened, eyes soft as they landed on Kira’s face. She felt a little thrill at seeing her, though Treepie couldn’t say whether it was really a crush or maybe just a squish? Now that any sense of competition or jealousy had been removed from the equation, she found herself quite endeared to the other woman.

Move over, Kinusi, she thought with a flick of her tail, she’s gonna be my bestie!

Hey, Kira. I’m… She almost said some variation of “good,” though it felt disingenuous, considering the Redhawks’ predicament. I’m okay. I don’t know if you heard, but my little cousin went missing. I was there when he was born, which wasn’t long ago at all, Pie said heavily. Honestly, I’m afraid the worst has happened, though they haven’t found a—she swallowed—body.

That was a sobering thought, compared to her previous one. Tiuttuk let out a breath and took a step closer to Kira. She reached out to brush their muzzles in an overture of friendship, then seated herself. Her two-toned tail wrapped tightly around her right hip, the dark tip resting over her matching paws.

Anyway, how have you been? Busy discovering all the deepest desires of your heart, I hope, Pie said, shooting for some levity.