Deepwood stopped whistling, looking awfuly guilty.

Squeakydo, squeakin? squeaks...'
Spoiler: trans
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"You mean my whistles? I am.. so sorry.. I was just so happy, that my mate got pregnant with a great healthy litter.'



Deepwood folded his ears.
"No.. actually it's my fault.' he bowed his head, kicking the the floor with self frustration.

"I am coming, Sketch.' he groaned, face hoofing.

He was about to fly and help Sketch.
"Oh. The darkness is from a tree that the rats have convinced to smash us all to doom. Just to let you know.' and with that, he used his sonar hearing to help Sketch.