Heron Lake Plateau Tyrants and kings both meet the same fate, strung up at your city gate

"Me neither," she said, still trying to find that balance between reading his lips and not looking too directly into his face, all while also attempting to make it down to the foot of the plateau without stumbling. Towhee had long since perfected the art of conversing while walking, though the darkness did make the whole thing a bit more challenging, as did Quixote's long spiels. She didn't mind that, though, despite the difficulties it presented. It was good to hash through all of this.

She did feel bitter when he immediately asked about Colt. She had seen it coming, though that didn't stop the unpleasant feelings. Towhee did her best to quash them even as she said, "I didn't have a problem with Colt. He had a problem with me, for the crime of being deaf." There was venom in her eyes for a moment, though her expression smoothed in the next beat. "I didn't kick him out. He chose to leave. If he can deal with me still being a leader, then it's your call to ask him back." Despite herself, she barked a laugh at the notion of Quixote implementing some sort of restraining order. "That's not necessary," she said simply.

She squinted when Quixote made a point to mention Clover's particular reaction to Colt's departure. Towhee didn't see anything peculiar about it and shrugged a white shoulder even as they hit even ground at the plateau's base. "He's her uncle. Maybe she was especially attached to him. I don't know."