Wheeling Gull Isle And I don't even care about what people say

The boy did not seem alarmed by her irritable state, nor intimidated by her size and title. His continued levity helped ease her sour mood somewhat, and Moorhen found herself giving a tentative wag of her tail to echo his own, despite the irascible expression still settled firmly across her features.

Hello, she repeated, her voice dour as she struggled to remember what she'd wanted to say to him as well as hold on to her bad mood. ... you move my wood. Except it hadn't been hers. She had just been planning to add it to her pile eventually.