We spent the rest of the ride holding each-other, quietly sharing feelings, thoughts, ideas, stories; all while embraced snuggly as the train rattled on, speaking in whispers and giggles. She tells me about Dinky's youth, and how playful she always was, a little beacon of too-smart-for-her-own-good. I tell her about my Sisters, being the only brother. It's a good, calm, honest talk; her wings are draped over me in a loose hug, and my hand idly roams up and down her side, coasting through her soft fur. I pause to scratch the lightly matted part where her purse had been sitting, eliciting a small purr from her.