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As the other fledgling remained silent and with his glance, she understood. She was worried, which was obvious in her sleeked feathers, but she cleared her throat.

"S'dead... We jus' found it lyin' here when we got 'ere, mister." She indicated the very dead skurri with a waft of her wing. Did he know? How much had he seen? Would he twist it around on her?

It was the last bit that worried her. The last thing she wanted was to have both Papa Twist and Breeze angry with her for something she would certainly not do. If she ever had a companion, she didn't want it to be killed, so she certainly wouldn't do the same to someone else's. Maybe they would believe her if she told them what happened first hand. Still, it would be the word of an adult against the word of a fledgling.

Fiachra watched quietly as the young white Sentinel raised her voice, her uncertainty showing in her feathers. Frowning, he looked to the larger Sentinel she was addressing, sure he would catch the same worry that he did. What was she worried about, anyway? Just earlier, she seemed perfectly fine and recovered after his accusation, but now she was off thinking about something, it seemed...

Perhaps she was still the child, after all. She looked younger than he was, if not by a lot- the way she acted, her voice-

You two are here together?

His feathers flattened in dismay at the question, but he stayed silent, wondering if the female would get the message. Stretching out his wings, a little territorial, he looked the adult head on in the eye, his pupils hardening with the tight feel in his gizzard.

Would the might-be-murderer attempt to kill them, too?

Vinch's attention left the Skurri as he noticed of the Wildtype's agitation and a slight hint of nervousness from the Mist. Wait...they don't think I did this...do they? This could be a problem. Instead of facing that idea, he decided to change the subject instead.

"I came to see a minder also, a friend of mine," Vinch related to the little Mist. "Unfortunately, she was out for the night, but I did get to spend some time with the others and meeting some of the youngest members of the Clan." He smiled warmly, hoping to put both fledglings' minds at ease. It was time to stop observing and just take care of business. "My name is Vinch, by the way. May I have yours?"

Vinch then looked at the Wildtype. The little male hadn't spoken yet, but Vinch figured a little prodding never hurt anyone. "And do you have a name?"

Osprey parted her beak as she meant to answer Vinch's question, but caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Fiachra was motioning to her and although she did not acknowledge him, she caught the silent message.

Her beak snapped shut with a soft clack and she glanced from side to side. How could she backtrack from this situation. Unfortunately, the young fledgling was not too wary of strangers, but the other fledgling seemed to think that Vinch would only cause trouble.

"I c'n go and get Pa Twist t' talk t' you. Or maybe another minder, if y'd like."

When Osprey didn't give any indication that she understood or even saw his signal, Fiachra felt a jolt of fear inside, resisting the urge to turn his head to confirm it. But hearing the soft click of her beck shutting, the wave of relief overcame him- she was rethinking what she was about to say, perhaps. Or something had finally registered in her brain that this man might just be dangerous?

At the comment about the Minder, he felt his whole body relax, his feathers puffing out a bit. That was the way to go, get another Minder into it, they'd have to deal with it.

When the adult smiled at him, Fiachra stayed ever silent and stony, looking away just to prove his point. If the adult really wasn't the murderer, he'd feel sorry for it later, but he wouldn't apologize, no, he wasn't at that stage, yet. But despite it all, he still felt the slightest bristle of guilt at his chest at the fact that he was just trying so hard.

When Vinch exclaimed his little discovery, Fiachra jumped back, frightened by the sudden explosion of volume. Had he only just figured that out? Frowning, he realized with a jolt that the murderer would have had to poison the skurri to get away with it, and if Vinch really was the murderer, he wouldn't have pointed out the fact that the stripe was dye, or else it would just make it easier for others to figure out the method of murder, and then get closer to convicting him for it.

But if Vinch wasn't the murderer, and it just died of its own accord, it still didn't explain why it was dyed and it hadn't been taken in by another Sentinel. It was obviously someone's companion, but how could they have lost track of it like that? It was best to let the Minders know...

"We should just show it to the minders, then, Vinch, Osprey," he stated calmly, a bitter resignation in his eyes to the fact that his theory had been wrong all along.

He didn't want to face the guilt.

"Yup, yup, we have to tell the Minders..." Vinch realized that the Wildtype had spoken then and turned the little male. He then grinned mischievously, realizing the fledgling had given himself away to have just been pretending.

"It's definitely dye. I didn't realize it from so far-er, from my first glance." Vinch quickly caught himself before he tripped up and revealed that he had been spying on the pair. He quickly shuffled on, pushing the Skurri gently to it's other side. "See, it has no wounds. This Skurri definitely wasn't attacked."

Vinch then walked around to look at the deceased Skurri's face. As he studied the face he realized that this was not the face of a young Skurri. Not even a Skurri in its prime. "My, this is a very old Skurri. I think..." Vinch looked at both the fledglings in turn, "this Skurri just died of old age. Yes, I'm certain of it. Nothing violent happened here. It was just its time."

He nodded and thought for a moment. "It seems like the most considerate thing to do now, is find the owner and to let him or her know that their Skurri won't be returning."