Grouse Thicket started from the bottom

Niamh. It was more of a sound than a name, but he couldn't really comment when his own name was so stupid. Even his nickname had become something of a bother to him - so when she turned the conversation back upon him, Screech realized it was his chance to really start over; he could be anyone, anything, but he'd have to be quick or the moment would stretch too long and she'd know he was lying. In the end, it was a bit of an awkward pause but he had to go with the tried and true: My friends call me Screech.

Thinking of Redshank now, the boy paused to look over his shoulder, ears turning. I haven't seen anything edible around here besides those.. really tall birds, like, the heck are those? He turned back to regard her, fixing that single eye on her as if she had answers. Have you been here long? Maybe we can all work together - ah, once my buddy gets here. Where the heck was Redshank anyways? Screech was getting antsy.