The Tangle hips that could bear you a buffalo

“Oh,” Eirlys said, realizing that she was rambling again, just as she had the first day she’d met Sif. “Sometimes I talk too much…” she mumbled. She didn’t realize that Fury didn’t believe her about the rockbirds — she wasn’t too intuitive when it came to social interaction — but even if she’d caught on to the girl’s disbelief she wouldn’t have taken offense. Eirlys might not have believed it if it hadn’t happened to her directly. Backtracking, “Yeah, Eirlys,” she affirmed, figuring the other girl was just making sure she’d heard right. “It’s, um — it’s a flower. A little white one.”

She didn’t comment on the bleeding, instead sticking out her tongue to try to pinpoint where exactly the wound was. When she found it, she grimaced. “I was running,” the chubby adolescent recollected, “through there. To get away from the rockbird.” She looked toward the tangle of undergrowth she’d erupted from with a slightly embarrassed air.