Twisted Slough An isle of flightless birds

Erzulie? That was a weird name. He almost said as much — opened his mouth, prepared to engage his tongue, when he heard her agreeing with him and then, of all things, explaining that she was willing to chase them too. That was something he hadn't expected. Adults didn't usually want to play his kinds of games, and Tywyll had become used to his parents curtailing his rambunctious behavior (or trying to). Her question made him pause everything and sort-of glance around, like she might be asking someone else to formulate a plan - but he was the only one here. Um.

Uh, um, okay! I guess you can play too, he didn't want to leave her out if she wanted to help, but he didn't really have a tactical mind. No such thing had been taught to him yet, but maybe this would start Tywyll's next character arc (which he was sorely in need of). He looked away from his new friend Erzulie for a few seconds, trying to determine how to best chase the birds - and well, if he was the expert here, what could he teach her? Thus began a very drawn out thought process with many interruptions; the birds were calm again at this point, some even waddling closer as they grazed on bits of grass.

Then, a bulb went off above his head. I know! I could um, I could go around them, and chase them the other way -- you know? Like, towards you, he motioned with a paw as if he were drawing a diagram in the air and said, and when they get close enough, you can grab one! Or two! I bet you could grab 'em all.