Dawnlark Plains learn your rules; you'd better learn your rules

he laughed as the girl abandoned the feather, choosing to bring the bone over instead. he got a name from the boy--well, two--and settled on the easier of the two, figuring that would be easier to remember. he was a sharp kid; he threw the same question right back at aditya, and his ears perked up to hear it. "my name is aditya," he said, "but lots of people call me 'adi.'"

then another question, about the feather's origins, and he nodded sagely down at river, nose running gently over the edge of the feather. "haan, bachcha, a bird. the feather must have fallen off. sometimes we lose our hair," adi added, preening at his shoulder in illustration. a few hairs, part of the pathetic excuse for a winter pelt he'd grown, fluttered to the ground. "see?"