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You've let your face grow long
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Now that she had managed to dig something that resembled a den she felt a lot more secure sleeping in Dahlia de Mai. It was nice to be able to go to a space that was all your own; even if the lands were ruled by others, she still had a small scrap of it for herself. The young female lay outside the boulder that marked her denning area, a small bird sitting in front of her. "Go on, then, talk!" She knew that it could talk...Ember had caught small pieces of what the bird had said, but couldn't figure out if it was her not listening right or the bird not talking right. Either way she couldn't understand what it was saying.
One of the finch's wings was dragging along the ground, so she knew that it was injured...but it wouldn't speak any more. "Are you afraid of me? I'm not going to eat you...you've only got enough meat on you for a teensy tiny baby puppy. So you should talk to me."
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