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She nodded and chose the latter subject to dwell upon. "I'm not sure why he's following me, but...he stood up to an eagle to protect me..." Still a rather unsensible thing to do, given the eagle could very well have hurt him, but the girl only smiled down at the closely following avian. "I'm glad for his company."

The girl nodded, although not confidently so. Her eyes trailed towards the earth. Her hands went to fidgetting with themselves as soon as they were freed from his grasp. "I don't have any family besides Eiks and.." She glanced at the bird. It was apparent at this point that although they'd left the party behind, he was not going to let her alone. A part of her almost wanted to play the part of an ignorant human, to 'shoo' him away to where he belonged, although secretly craving his company. The instinct wasn't acted upon, and she continued, "the Heron, I think...I..It's hardly anything..I'm sorry."

Compliments were much like bread, and the Heron did not plan to live on it alone. The kind words did cause a slight swell of noble pride within his breast, but it was a feeling that wasn't cultivated. Instead, his neck tucked back into the placid, defensive stance that he'd been in a few moments before and continued to survey with unwavering scarlet optics. He sensed his companions uneasiness. He was waiting for the right moment for action.

Beep Beep...

The wretched sound. Amber had just been about to apologize for her nervous behaviour, when the sound she dreaded most rang out. The girl looked down to the concealed pocket of the gown and pulled her hands away to pull out a small beeper. "Excuse me, please.." The crestfallen words drifted as she steped away for a moment, watching the bright red text scroll across the tiny screen before the neon illumination died away, leaving her to return to the company of cat and bird.

"I'm sorry about that...it seems I have to go to work, first thing in the morning. Hospitals rest for no one, I guess.."

Amber ran a hand through her hair and nodded as the hour had come, and she knew it would not end well if she were to come in late. Still, although the night had been short, in its way, it had blessed her with a Heron and, if only for the moment, a friend.

The Heron gently craned his neck to tug upon the fabric of her dress. It was time to go home, it was time he appraised his new dwelling.

"Thanks for tonight, Dragon.....Doctor Arrikanez. I...I enjoyed talking to you."

A few steps back, before she turned away and slowly began towards home. Yet, she turned around to wave once more before she'd gone out of sight. "Goodnight!" And then, she was gone.

The Heron had gone with her, leading her way in the night, although he knew not fully to where they would go. After a time, he allowed the woman to take over, their partnership beginning truly then - and perhaps...something more.

When something spoke, Lyle jumped only more. He thought, for a moment, that the bird had spoken -- and that would be just what he needed in life, a talking, man-eating turkey thing with a painful sense of humor. Painful indeed - his blond hair was being turned slightly red by the little cuts in his scalp from the crash landing the bird had experienced just earlier, and his cheek was still red and slightly swollen from his rendezvous with an icicle before the party. When he glanced at the bird, however, his common sense caught up with him - what type of world would this be to have talking birds! He straightened out, looked up, and blinked blankly.

Not a bird, then. A cat thing. Not much better, but at least it looked vaguely human.

The cat-thing was speaking at him, but Lyle didn't catch a half of what he was supposed to hear. It's what happened when he was confused or shocked and explained why he hadn't expected to make it in college even if he could have afforded it. Lyle wasn't a very good listener - once he was stuck, he was lost like the words were a labyrinth.

The vulture, however, caught every word and had been staring at the man since he took the first step towards him and his new companion-slash-waiter. When this 'Dragon' character asked for the vulture's name, he rearranged himself, coughed loudly, sniffed, and lashed out, snapping his beak at the man without warning or other movement. If one could understand a turkey vulture's voiceless words, they would hear him snickering. Oh, the things he'd do to see people flinch. And, in the long run, this man seemed vaguely edible - not quite the type of animal that was down his alley, but all the same.

The vulture had just lashed out at the second other social contact Lyle had had so far at this party. He expected himself to jump, scared like usual, author unwilling to use a thesaurus and find a word for jump that isn't jump, but found himself half-smiling and half-irritated at the thing. "Not really great behavior," he said at it, and then realized he was talking to a bird.

Assuming Dragon hadn't left, Lyle continued, gaze still trained on the feathered thing to make sure it didn't try to eat anyone again, "Could you, er, repeat all that? I was a bit busy being almost eaten."

The turkey vulture shook himself out again, peering sideways at this Dragon in hopes to see him flinch like Lyle did if he [the vulture] stepped anywhere near him. No response. He considered insulting this man in a series of hisses, but what use would that be on a ridiculous person like this? Instead his gaze merely narrowed, beady eyes looking out past the wrinkly skin of his head.

"Lyle," said Lyle, stepping purposefully on the tail feathers of the vulture nearby. It responded well, hissing and biting purposefully into Lyle's leg with its short beak. Lyle recoiled but stood his ground - er - feathers. "And 'fiend' is a word for it - but it doesn't have a name, I mean, it's not really mine."

The vulture saw the mouse first. The state of it? Dead. The smell? Fantastic! He debated which tasted better a moment: the flesh of Lyle through the fabric of his pants or the small mouse. A bit of logic wheeled through his brain before he released his grip on Lyle, fluttered his wings quickly, and bit down on the mouse before Lyle had time to react. It was so small, so adorable, so easy to swallow. And swallowed it was. The vulture turned his featherless head to Dragon and nodded.

Lyle blinked against the question and racked his mind. He shook his head slowly. Moving so much, one would think he knew his way around, but it was quite the opposite; the most he did was linger on sidewalks and hover near stores. "I get lost going just down the street. Couldn't help you, sorry."

"What are YOU nodding at?" this man had asked; the turkey vulture just nodded again, a malicious glint in his eyes. He snapped his beak - just because he liked this Dragon character didn't mean he could try to eat him!



[[lawlz, short. -___-]]

"Malicious?" The word was large and thick in his mouth.

"I thought it was just, I don't know," said Lyle, glancing down at the bird, whose feathers were still caught under the heel of his shoe, "kind of dumb." He shifted his foot a little [it was beginning to itch under the material of his shoes, and he knew how difficult it was to get those] and the bird pulled free, skidding a little and taking its own place to make a triangle with Lyle and Dragon. It was a damn shame that Dragon was so fond of his flesh. He would have helped him without hesitation to remove it if he was asked, although he didn't seem quite as edible as Lyle; of course, none of them seemed as edible as the stuff on [and what he'd stuffed under] the tables. The vulture didn't really require anything in particular, but it wouldn't mind any offers. That flare of favoritism from being fed the mouse was dying and so was his care for this Dragon.

"It doesn't need anything else," muttered Lyle in a coincidental agreement. "And you don't have a band-aid or something, do you, or, uh, know where I can get one?"

As if in response his cheek started to bleed again.