Sun Mote Copse Steal from the rich, give to myself.

She saw his eyes floating in the dark, attached to the faint outline of his pale, sandy figure, leaner than she liked to see but certainly familiar. Towhee moved toward him, the queer prickling at the nape of her neck forgotten, at least until it happened again once she reached Pippin. It was even intenser this second time and, though Towhee couldn't explain why, she also didn't really question it when the sensation prompted her to reach out and touch her muzzle to Pippin's with an intimacy that didn't quite belong to them.

Towhee caught herself and withdrew, though she smiled at her own forward behavior. "Have I told you how glad I am you're here, even if you yelled at me when you got here? At least, I think you yelled at me." He'd certainly sworn. She huffed a laugh, then continued. "I didn't know you cared so much. But the feeling's mutual." In for a penny, in for a pound. "How're you feeling, anyhow?"