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

He was still—statuesque as she closed the distance between them and his eyes followed her movement. He had never considered it before—not that he didn’t consider Towhee attractive because he certainly did—but her movements were fluid. Sinuous, almost. Her muzzle reached out to graze his own, and the Ostrega remained rooted to the spot, his mind dumbing down even more than usual at that very moment… if that was even possible.

So he chose to ignore it, playing it off that she was simply grateful he had found them.

Fucking right I yelled, he wanted to say. Instead, he chose to not bring about her ire and dredge up past mistakes. He still didn’t know why she had scaled the rocks without care or thought to what could happen. “Yeah,” he chuffed finally, his tongue sliding over his lips as he continued to look at her, knowing she needed his lips to read what he was saying. One day, he would need to learn her language. It would make things a hell of a lot easier.

He didn’t know what else to say to that. He had always been drawn to the dark girl… Finding it easy to talk to her—casual, and laid back. He wasn’t one to settle within a pack, but his friendship with her made him want to. And so here he was.

“I’m okay. Mending.” He paused, his eyes sweeping over her. “What about you?” He found himself having to resist following after her touch—and so it was easier to deflect.