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"Practicin' yer crashin'?"

Initially, Song hadn't planned on saying a word to the younger Mist. Nope, she was going to play it cool and watch Osprey take a tumble into the unknown, the only thing following her tail feathers being Song's (very) pointed laughter. However, the situation in its entirety had been too good to pass up at least one snide remark in lieu of the pale fledgling's imminent debacle. The plump Ghost had sidled up behind Osprey, hopping into her personal bubble and leaning forward to peer into the gloom she was so willing to throw herself into.

"Seems an awful far ways t'go down," she quipped, voice high and obnoxious. "Betcha cain't make t'the branch over'n there!"

There was a dare woven into that tone of hers, and though she stuck her face out as though in interest, her bright eyes were fastened on Osprey. Her wings fluffed - more than usual, that is - ruffling against her companion. Ever since the Mist had entered the clutch, Twist's attentions had been torn. It really wasn't fair, especially to her; she was older. Didn't that count? Baiting the younger girl into trouble was her only way of sticking it to the man, so to speak.

Song sniffled suddenly and turned with a theatrical sigh, "S'too bad yer t'chicken to try n' all."

Song bristled instantaneously. Drawing herself up, she did her best to act nonchalant, and almost had it too if it weren't for the annoyed dimpling of her brow.

"Jealous o' what? I kin fly better'n you could!" she said in rather severe tones. The Ghost propped up her wings as though to compare the flight feathers coming in with Osprey's; there was no way she was going to let this little chick get the better of her, no way!

"Leas' I kin fly up n' over to that ol' branch." She motioned over to the one she had pointed to previously, only the one she was eye-balling was several wingspans higher. It was one thing to glide over to a perch and land smoothly, it was other entirely to pick yourself up and do it. Song knew from experience, though she was hard pressed to recall any of those memories.

"Done it millions-a times."

Well, now she was really stuck under a Minder's bum, wasn't she? Though Song was only really full of fluff and hot air, she had reached a branch like that once. Sort of. A long time ago with Twist's help, of course - and by help it was more like complete carriage. But here she was, eying a perch that suddenly looked as though it were drifting farther and farther away from her; she chanced a swift glance at Osprey. Well, she had to do it now, didn't she? Her beak opened, she swallowed her words, and shut it with a snap.

"Well, why's I gotta prove it t'ya anyway!" she said loudly in order to cover up her own fear. She shuffled uncomfortably on the branch. Song stared long and hard into the gloom; she could make it, she told herself. Easier than a baggy pull of Mus. At least she tried to convince herself of this, but it was failing miserably. She did something akin to a small dance number on the bough of Twist's tree.

"Fine. But'cha gotta move n' give'm room for take off! 'Cause if'n I ain't got no room, I cain't fly, 'course!"

She hoped Ossie wouldn't budge.

"I s'pose," she grumped. Now she was really in it. Song toddled towards the edge of the branch, shoving past Ossie. This didn't bode well, but she was determined to show the other fledgling up - it was a shame Twist couldn't be here to see it.

Song's wings fluttered open with a stretch, which was really more to shake out the jitters than it was to prepare. She shimmied back a space and took a chest-puffing breath, where it was held as she contemplated her short-lived life. There was no way she was going to make it. She'd been practicing flying just like Twist had told her, but not as extensively as she should have been.

It was time to prove herself or die trying! And so, tossing her fears into the gloom (and planning wholly on having her body follow) her minuscule talons scraped at the bark as she waddled towards the end of the branch and, and, and--

Tumbled over backwards as she was buffeted with a flurry of copper and black barred feathers. The end of the branch sagged as it received the weight of a much larger Sentinel, who looked a little bit startled and a lot a bit confused. There was some shuttling of fledgings back up the branch followed by a string of inconprehensible babble that sounded something like 'anf whaf essatly syu two doinf!' The large male planted himself in front of the ghost and the mist, looking down expectantly.

Songbloom's tufts went up, "Uh...what?"

Twistumbler gave a series of blinks as though to jog his memory and spit the meal of lizards from his beak. He collected himself, "And what exactly were you two doing!"

Without a second thought, Songbloom pointed an accusing wing at Osprey, eyes wide and innocent.

Well, as innocent as one could managed when they were shoving the blame on someone else.

Twistumbler's worries were forgotten the moment Osprey nuzzled against him. The Minder swooped down and nibbled affectionately on her tufts, nudging her gently as she toddled backwards. Straightening, the male turned his gaze on Song, who, despite having decided to stand her ground, ducked away guiltily. He cocked his head, eyes cinching around the edges, and peered at her more amused than angry. How could either of his little darlings be anything but innocent?

"That so, darling? Song said that? Well! Quite the gal to keep your eye on, then, hm?" he said with a proud puff. Song let out a tiny sigh of relief, glad she didn't have to launch herself into her doom for Ossie's amusement. She scratched errantly at one of the lizards, refusing to look up at either her Minder or her clutch-mate.

Twist busily began to shred one of the creatures into smaller chunks, in case Osprey wanted to eat, "Care to show us your prowess, dear?"

Song blinked and looked up, "No'm really. M'hungry." She began guzzling slivers of lizard down, if only to keep her mouth shut.

The Wildtype turned bright, eager eyes to Ossie, "And you, darling? Gotten anywhere with your practicing?" He nudged the meal towards her in encouragement.

"Wonderful~" Twist bobbed his head and beamed, taken by Ossie's eagerness.

When Song cleared her throat, she glowered heavily at her clutch-mate. There really wasn't much to be said on her part; after all, she had put herself on the spot.

At the fledgling's inquiry, the Wildtype appeared to ruminate on the possibility of finding his small charge a teacher. She was a bright, clever little thing, but he couldn't help but feel as though someone were plucking his feathers when it came right down to it. The bane of a Minder's existence when they became too attached to their wards.

"Hum, hum!" was all he said for a while. Ossie needed to learn, and so did Song for that matter.

"I don't see why not!" Twist finally quipped. He grinned, "But who could possibly teach my clever little darling what she already knows?" He nibbled affectionately at Ossie's tufts again. Song made a sidelong look at the Mist and grumped.

"N' who'd wanna teach'er anyway."