Grouse Thicket king of the road

He really didn't like the situation he had gotten locked in to, but he would have to make the best of it. After his encounter with Bruges (which never failed to leave him feeling resentful and buzzing with a low adrenaline rush) he had headed south to where the scent of his sister was stronger. He didn't want to go too far since he wasn't clear on where she lived exactly, but when he finally stopped for a rest he was in a thicket ripe with signs of life.

There were abandoned nests in the underbrush, some with feathers worked in to them, others with spoiled little eggs that were splattered with color. He'd found a few of these abandoned eggs and thought he could get a bite to eat before embarking on this stupid bet — but with some investigation Ambrose discovered why they had been discarded. Most didn't hatch because they were too small, others were cracked open and had cooked in their shell thanks to the season. None of them were edible, so he passed them by.

Ambrose took his time to formulate a plan, or try to, but as he came to the edge of the thicket on the southern side he realized he'd been wasting time. He had no idea how to go about charming any ladies — that was Bruges for you, giving him this ridiculous task. First things first, he muttered to himself as he strode along an expanse of exposed grass, I should find @Niamh and see if there's room.

So, he did that: he cast his head back and called for his sister. His deep voice carried across the rolling expanse and across the distant plateau. The game, as they say, had begun.