Sun Mote Copse From utility animal to life partner

Towhee considered Wraen's words. Yes, Eljay would probably want to know why, though she somehow doubted he would question them, especially if it was Towhee herself asking. The Regent pondered whether he would be awkward about the subject or more clinical. She couldn't really guess. Eljay could be such an enigma.

"Do I believe what?" Towhee asked, eyes searching the Sovereign's face before guessing, "That Hydra manages to micromanage her subordinates' seasons? If anyone's capable of that, it would be her." She smirked faintly, expression thoughtful. "I'm sure it's an extremely unpleasant business, whatever it entails, but it might be a lot less repulsive than dealing with unwanted pregnancies and pups."

The conversation turned a lighter corner then and Towhee was glad to pursue it. Her heart skipped a beat as she thought about whether she might be able to have more kids next year. She didn't want to get her hopes up, though she would definitely be going into the whole thing with a totally different mindset next time. As for her sex talk, the Regent snorted in mock offense.

"According to some rando I ran into recently, I sound like a dying cougar or something," she mused, "and none of you assholes ever told me." Towhee clucked her tongue, shooting Wraen a look of disappointment before cracking into a grin. Of course, she had been told over the years that she sounded like this or that, though it was a little difficult for Towhee to conceptualize any of it. And though it bothered her slightly that she might sound ridiculous, she supposed she didn't actually give much of a shit at the end of the day.

"Anyway," she carried on in the next breath, "I should check on the girls. Would you like to come peep at"—oh, what had Wraen called her?—"Murica?"