Blackfeather Woods Someday your bird is going to fly.

He was ready and willing to do whatever she asked; perhaps by showing his devotion at every turn, she would come to regard him as more than just a ghost, or a dear friend, no matter how strongly it was felt. One day the ruins of this once-mighty forest would be filled with their children. It was inevitable. The woods had called to him for as long as Titmouse existed, and continued even now - but perhaps the trees and the ravens called on Maegi's behalf. Her old gods were tricky things.

He prepared to go along further but Maegi spun and dove off the path, in to the brambles, with a flourish and murmured commentary. The boy didn't like seeing her hurt; at the same time, he let out a breathy rasp of laughter at her bold actions, and dutifully followed in her wake. She crashed and fought the bramble while he pranced behind, shaping the forest with kicks and lunges of his own, pruning with sharp snaps of his teeth - whatever would get the job done.