Permafrost Hollows Go Home, You're Drunk

Primrose felt like a fly caught on some sticky paper, or something. He wanted to bolt back in to the forest and cower from the bird (even if it had escaped), but at the same time, he couldn't leave. It felt like his limbs had become roots, and that they had entwined with the frozen ground - much like the roots of the trees around the two of them. The stranger's question, warranted though it may be, made Posie pout slightly. Then he shrugged, and mid-shrug shook his head. "N-no, I guess I haven't. But one time - it was really close! I almost became a bird's lunch!" Or had it been breakfast? What time of day was that again? It was too long ago for him to remember the specifics. All Posie knew was, birds are evil little shits. Except... In nicer terminology.

"I'm doin' the same. Just passing through. I guess." Posie responded as quickly as he could, after the stranger introduced themselves. Whether they were a queen or not, the very mention of the word made Posie stand up straighter; then he bowed, his tail curling against his legs, in a display of carefully practiced grovelling. "I-I'm sorry for interrupting your travels, Queen, miss, uh -" Ohh he was really messing this up now! What was he supposed to say to a queen of all people?! "Your majesty."