Sun Mote Copse Fairest of the seasons

wc:212

“Gross, Phox,” Niamh jested, “Don't love her to PIECES, sheesh. I prefer my Towhee all in one piece, thanks, so backoff,” She said playfully, lifting a forepaw to shove it deftly against his shoulder. She settled back against him afterward, and took a moment to consider Figment potentially stepping up into a leadership position. She couldn't recall off-hand if they had another position available that he could step in to, as an honorary member of the leadership team, but she felt certain that there'd be something of that ilk they could simply wish into existence and bestow upon him. They could probably find a wicked title to give him too.

“Yeah, see what he thinks. But it can't hurt to push him a bit, make sure he knows what he's getting into if he wants to lead, 'cause it h'ain't all sunshine an' roses an' free food an' having your subjects happily bow down to you,” She said. “I wish SOMEbody had seen fit to tell me that,” She muttered sarcastically. “I can see if he wants to train a bit more an' make sure his sparring skills are up to par. But all the leadership advice for the whole...Ambassador, peace-keeping stuff, that should prolly come from you, not me,” She said, and bapped his nose with her paw.