Sun Mote Copse World war freestyle.

Towhee paused at Fen's condition, a pang hitting her square in the chest when she realized that telling Fig simply wasn't an option. She nodded nonetheless, before remembering herself and offering a quiet, "Of course," before falling silent and letting her daughter speak.

Her eyes remained riveted on Fen's lips as she took in every word. She felt another lurch in her chest, too easily imagining her daughter's strife. She wanted to grab onto her again and simply hold her close. Fen could've died as a result of her frantic flight and the subsequent separation, so Towhee was incredibly glad for the faceless stranger who'd intercepted her wayward daughter. And, of course, she was grateful to Wraen for sheltering her.

"Who was the other wolf, the one who helped you?" Towhee wondered. Despite telling herself to stay put to read Fen's lips, she couldn't resist the urge to move in a little closer, pressing her shoulder against the girl's. I'm here to support you, the gentle touch said.