With a particular air of drama she flopped down onto the porch floorboards next to her brother’s chair and slung her legs over the side, letting her feet dangle and sway back and forth. She held a post with delicate fingers, and stared out to the garden for a moment before turning back to her brother. “You don’t like change,” she mused. “I always have to annoy the hell out of you to get you to do anything new.” She giggled. It was a fair justification for her usual past time – pestering her brother.
“Hey!!” She suddenly looked very, very offended, and prodded at his foot. “You're not growing up on me, are you?”
She knew her brother had gotten some preoccupation with some bird or something. . . well, okay, she didn’t know the particulars. . . but she had noticed when her brother began building the cage and the trap, and once she noticed it was too small for her to fit into and therefor not some scheme to keep her out of trouble, she realized he was interested in acquiring a pet. She didn’t understand the importance, or that when Niro finally did catch one it would far surpass normal pet status, but he had been so engrossed with it in the last few weeks and she was happy that he had found himself a hobby. Oh, the luxuries of a real home. . . they would never have had time for their indulgences back in the Florida slums.
“So, what is it you’re trying to catch, anyway? Just any bird, or one in particular?” She turned her golden eyes from the dilapitated garden and to her brother’s calm visage – that was when she realized he held something in his palm. She eyed his hands for a minute before rising to her feet and leaning over him for a better look. “Hey, whattaya got there?” It looked like some sort of smooth, splotchy, oblong rock. . .