"Really," Hawk said, frowning, "Then why's it sound so�negative�when you bring it up?"

Teige rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. "Well, er...sometimes I forget how little you know about the world, sunshine." He grinned sheepishly, and continued, "Some�people find the idea of fucking outside your own species to be, er, gross."

Hawk blinked. "Ohhh," he said, somewhat embarrassed, "right."

"Don't fucken blush, feathers," Teige said placatingly, moving to plonk himself down on the other side of their small campfire, "Interspecies buggery is older'n coal. There's whole myths about it! And we're all intelligent and consenting monsters here, eh? There's been thousands a' halfbreeds like you as the result of such unions. I wouldn't put any stock into anyone who held that against you."

He dreamed of the black shapes of big, heavy birds wheeling over his head, outlined against the sun. They were saying something, between them, but he did not know or could not remember what.