Herbalists' Cache beware the Jubjub bird, and shun

A voice.

Blossom jumped, her fur ruffling around her neck and her eyes going owlish. The bird tittered behind her, landing on her head after what appeared to be a moment of thought. She stared up at the creature, then back at the dark headed man.

Her throat clicked when she swallowed.

I think they do. I think they tell stories of us, like we tell of them. She extended her neck out from the ruffle of her fur, the strands laying back down slowly.

Are you a storyteller? It would make sense, with the fanciful question that Blossom only thought someone like herself would ask.