Hushed Willows Itsy Bitsy Birdy

Stopping underneath the tree, he sat down and grinned at the small bird. Tiny, some might call it. He tilted his head, curiosity in his eyes. Hi, bird! I am just passing through this beautiful place. It gets colder than I am used to though. Pausing for a moment, he wagged his tail. My name is Sprig. What is yours, small bird? His ears moved forward as if waiting for an answer, a small smile on his face.