Sun Mote Copse Record scratch, freeze frame.

Towhee patiently waited out her friend's spiel, waiting until the end before bothering trying to answer any of the questions fired at her. "We'll be totally fine," she replied with a shrug, ignoring the small twinge in her shoulder. "We can take care of ourselves. We have been. Small packs aren't unheard of, right?" Her orange eyes skirted Niamh's face. "Don't worry about us, you have enough on your plate. But that's the idea, yeah," she finished, "we're hoping to set up shop in a nearby territory, maybe become a third sister pack, but..."

She hadn't told anyone except Phox about her altercation with Tegan. She didn't plan to either, not Niamh, not even Raven. Towhee wasn't really sure why; it was complicated. And Tegan hardly represented the Redhawks on the whole. But between Raven's initial reaction and Tegan going completely off the reservation, Towhee really wasn't sure what to expect out of that particular detail. She couldn't even imagine Quixote's take on all of it.

"But," she repeated, picking up another thread entirely, "enough about me. I came here to hear about your life, not talk about mine," well, other than to deliver her confession of sorts. "Are we there yet?" Towhee pressed, using the same joke she'd unleashed on her godfather.