Ravensblood Forest hippity-hop, all the way to the birdie boiler

sorry i would have responded sooner but i was baking cupcakes which takes priority always

nor did his violent anthem stir anything.

bartok was growing bored of his object of ridicule, and anselm was determined for his haphazard tromp to remain uninterrupted, so the bird prepared to take to the skies and rally to the misfortune of someone more susceptible to emotional meltdowns, when the stranger asked of him the name of his dog.

he branched his tousled form and peered down. "friend of?" he tilted his head, indicating that anselm's brazen assumption was mislaid. "name is dog," he nodded affirmatively. "next question." he encouraged, falling backwards with his talons still clutching the branch, swinging beneath as though he were a bat, and eyeballed the prying anselm.