Redhawk Caldera For... laughs?

As Raven could attest, Titmouse had quite the mouth on him. When he grappled on to Liffey's face he let out a series of chirps that could've been misconstrued as giggling — and maybe it was — but the sound coming from his throat fluctuated like a preteen through puberty. It was high one second, crackling, and then tapering off to a dull sound every few seconds. He just couldn't get his voice to work.

Plus, well, holding on to Liffey was hella fun. He almost forgot about the strain to his vocal chords while holding tightly to her nose. She didn't struggle much (which was no fun), but within moments Titmouse could sense some kind of shift in the girl. Like she was holding back (tears, her own screeching, her breath, he couldn't really tell that much). And then Titmouse let go for a second. Just long enough to gather a deep breath — because he latched on again, prickling the tough leather of Liffey's nostrils with his needle-teeth.

Maybe later he could find her a nice new nose-ring to plug the tear he was working on.