Wapun Meadow Sing, Bluebird, sing

Tambourine was ignorant to the nymph's newest distraction and for that she was mildly grateful. It seemed her social life was still in the wings, and so words were often blurted out rather unintentionally. His subtle language went more or less over her radar, and so tilted her head only slightly to one side as he queried more on her natal habits

His questions were a series of strung enquieries of which Simatra listened dutifully to, a crinkled laugh bubbling up her throat at his last word. Of course, she had no idea of what a zebra was, and so kindly corrected him with an apologetic look of amusement. "A Dezba," she'd grin, tail buffing the ground. Her disappointment was fading, she supposed knowledge wasn't an immediate need; a want more likely but definitely not essential...not just yet. "I don't know much, I'm not really meant to. Just sort of picked up a few tricks along the way. I find it interesting though.".