Wapun Meadow Sunshine, Daisies, Butter Mellow...

Shit. He has been caught. And by a phoenix, no less.
Straightening, he dipped his crown to the  fire hued fae.
An averted gaze, placing his iceberg irises on the tall greenery at the base of her paws.
Why did it burn to look at her?

"I apologize if I interrupted you. I saw fire in the meadow, but it had no smoke, nor did it spread. Curiosity drove me to investigate."

That was a mouthful, and Cry hated every word he said, for they all were a waste of his breath. Perhaps he stayed solitary for the lack of interaction with others. Woods were meaningless.