The Tangle Moonchild, flying wild.

They were barren woodland... or so she thought.

Snap!

A twig;only a twig. The chorus above silenced, save the sound of departing wings. Upon hearing this, the bird's gaze shifted, veering to leer across her shoulder. So it was not a twig.

The figure moved, ever so slightly. They were, in fact, looking directly towards where she stood. It was always a disadvantage, for them to know where you stand before you know where they stand.

Vespira tsk'd. Her stomach shriveled, wrenched with a wavering feeling. Why were they still? Did they plan to charge? Did they think she was someone familiar? They were certainly not familiar to her.

For a moment, she considered calling out to them; but, what was the point? They were both well aware of each other. If they wanted her attention, they could request it. However, should they not desire it, she would go about her business like any other.