Cricket Creek Bog Itsy Went Up The Water Spout

It had taken her a few moments to locate little Itsy again—that bittier bird had gone to ground as well, once the frenetic grab at slaughter had begun. Wiser than Grimeye might have given the little thing credit for. She felt an almost parental fondness toward the little creature now, though, quite happy with the outcome of their little bargain. This time, at least, Itsy was being more careful with her earthworms, smashing them flat to the ground with her tiny birdtoes. Good: Grimeye really didn't want to interrupt her own gathering up of trophies to go chase any more worms.

Yes, Itsy have worm, she agreed, eyes glinting in Itsy's direction before returning to the feathery pile before her. Grimeye carefully picked up the downy gray baby and deposited its form atop its elder's, giving it a small proprietary nosing to make sure it'd stay in place before she looked back up again at her little helper. I'm glad I could help, Clever Itsy. Good times! Enjoy your worm, little one. Grimeye's eyes strayed again, this time to what she thought was the edge of the swamp which she could just glean through the small screening copse nearby. Better and better; now she had a couple of meals' worth of booty and could escape this dreary place. She gave Itsy a jaunty wave of the tail in farewell, though she'd keep the little bird and its gullibility generous assistance in mind if it could ever be found again.