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Brightling tilted her head and smiled at Tousled, expression managing to say “I’d like that a lot” without her having to actually speak and interrupt Birch anymore than he already had been.

"Ah, yes..." she murmured, suddenly thinking about what had actually happened the night that egg hatched. Again, she had limited experience with the matter of the fledgling's kind, but she was a bard. She knew the old stories and the old songs, and if they were solely propaganda, she didn't know it. Spectres...she fluffed her feathers unconsciously and shuddered before fixing her eyes on Birch again.

"This is a story worth hearing, Birch," she said lightly, almost playfully. "Don't let me die of the suspense."

Tousled thought about the spectre chick, just as the two bards did, when it was mentioned. Tempest. She'd caught the name somewhere in the gossip that she happened to come across whenever she succeeded in making herself decently unnoticeable, and once, she had even seen a glimpse of it. It was a creepy-looking thing indeed, not like any other sentinel at all, with it's egg-like round head and those black, frightening eyes.

But was it ugly? Tousled dwelled on that thought for a while. Of course, seen with sentinel standards, Tempest was certainly very ugly with his naked legs, flat face and ear-tuft-less head, but what about spectre standard? What if the chick was actually an unusually beautiful spectre? She toyed with the idea, trying to bend the ghostly, frightening abnormality of the black-eyed chick into something that could perhaps be considered... normal. Her mind reeled, and she returned to the present with a slight frown.

She was completely shaken out of her reverie, however, when Birch suddenly reminded her of how "she" had initiated contact between the two of them.

"Ah... actually..." she mumbled, fluffing with embarrassment. "I.... that was... um." She let out a small cough and started trying to preen her feathers down again. "Actually, it was Tuft who requested a song on my behalf. He knows how I like songs and... that I am... sometimes... a bit too shy to actually speak up for myself. Hrm."

"He speaks for you?" Birch said, ear tufts rising. "That's interesting. He must be pretty clever for a Parus."

Thinking back he couldn't remember exactly what Tousled, no Tuft, had called out. But he remembered the pleasant conversation that followed. Tousled was easy to get along with and to talk to. She had intrigued him then and she still did.

"I... oh... anyway. We talked so much the Storm surprised us, and we ended up spending the day in a small shelter." he glanced at Tousled and smiled before ending his small story with a flourish, "The start of a beautiful friendship!"

It might not be the most exciting or interesting tale to tell, but Birch somehow ended up making a story out of just about everything. The Enthralling Tale about What I Had For Dinner. The Sad Story about My Moulted Primaries. Woe Is Me, My Noisemaker is Broken. The list could go on...

Aw...that was sweet. Brightling couldn't help but grin, looking from Birch to Tousled and rousing her feathers thoughtfully. They were a rather adorable pair, for all Birch's silly loudness and Tousled's anxiousness. Their reason for awkwardness was obvious to her now, and she almost felt like she was intruding on something. Perhaps it was time for her to...remove herself from the picture. Giving a little silvery laugh, she looked back at Birch and inclined her head.

"And it seems the beautiful friendship continues,” she said lightly. "You're lucky to have forged such a good friendship from such a mishap," she added, glancing at the sky in an attempt to gauge the time. Giving an exaggerated sigh, she shook out her wings and swept her beak through her primaries. Turning back to the pair, she inclined her head and sleeked her feathers.

“But look at the stars! It’s high time I get some hunting of my own done,” she said, giving another, theatrically sad sigh and shuffling to the end of the branch. “Birch, Tousled, it has been wonderful meeting you both. I look forward to seeing you in the future,” she said lightly, giving Tousled the warmest of smiles and bowing to Birch, flashing the chevrons on her wing in a mockery of a salute. "I'll be around; I always am. Don't hesitate to draw my attention if you happen to see me. And I’m sure I’ll come to the Crownleaf to see you soon. I’ll see if I can’t talk to my mother about the bells, Birch. It’s been lovely,” she added again, still smiling. “Take care of each other.”

And with that, she simply dropped from the branch, catching a breeze and angling so she could follow the creek back the way she came. It wasn't long before she started singing again, the same wordless melody she was working on earlier that evening.

Tousled watched Brightling leave, feeling about as tousled on the inside as on the outside. She just didn't know what to make of the Bard's sortie: On one hand, she was fairly certain that there must have been some embarrassment involved - given the conversation, it was more than understandable - but at the same time, her friendliness had seemed very genuine. She had even said - almost promised - to come by the Crownleaf Theatre, and... it was all really, really confusing.

"Take care of each other." That line made her feel very embarrassed, for some reason, which only served to make her more confused. She instinctively started preening in an attempt to calm herself down and sort her head out, but Birch's pleasant voice interrupted her (admittedly unorganised) train of thought.

"Hm? Oh... I... It's more like... she found me, actually. I've, um, seen her around a bit, but... We never really talked before." She gave Birch a somewhat thoughtful look, then her beak cracked open in a shy but slightly uncertain smile. "She was very nice, wasn't she? I'm surprised that you two didn't already know each other... you seem to... have a lot in common."

Tousled hiccuped in surprise at Birch's sudden outburst, but it turned into a breathless hoot of laughter before she had even had time to register the change, herself.

"Is that so?" she giggled, all thoughts of disturbingly perfect bard ladies temporarily gone from her mind. She smiled up at the larger Wildtype. "Well, I suppose you would know. From what I've learned from watching you, I'd say you told a few tall tales yourself at that age..." she caught up with herself and shut her beak, surprised that she had actually spoken her thoughts out loud, for once. She made a quick move as if to preen, like she always did when she felt awkward, but halted it the moment she broke eye contact with Birch.

For some reason, she didn't feel quite as terrified as she... well... ought to have. And that surprised her even more.

Birch's strong laughter immediately made all her nervousness disappear, and the smile returned to her beak. She met his eyes with a contemplative little "Hmm" that was almost a giggle.

"You must have been quite the handful." Encouraged by his laughter and admission of guilt, it was with a slight twinkle in her eye that she added: "Thank goodness you eventually shaped up into such a quiet, respectable sentinel."

Looking at him now, and thinking about what he must have been like as a fledgling, most likely getting into more trouble in a week than she had done in her whole life, the little Crafter realised with a slight sting of poignancy that she wished she could have been his friend even then.

It would have been interesting, no doubt about it.

To her delight, Tousled found herself unable to keep from giggling as well, once Birch started. It was an utterly strange and almost exhilarating feeling to giggle so freely - and above all, not being able to stop but continuously breaking out into new fits everytime their eyes met. She'd never felt anything like it before, and actually had to n** herself (disguising it as a preen) to finally regain some control over herself.

Deep breaths, don't look at him, this is the most ridiculous thing I have ever...! In my whole life! STOP it!

She was almost about to n** herself in the other wing when Birch's calm comment wiped her mind of all thoughts of laughing. Her? Funny? Fun to be around?

She was so stunned that she didn't even fluff. For a good while, she couldn't even think. She blinked slowly as her mind tried to adapt to a world where things like this could happen, where people like Birch could say things like this to people like her... without any sarcasm or ulterior motives.

It was a little bit hard to accept.

"I...I don't think...." she began in a stuttering whisper, just as Birch spoke up again. Rather grateful for the interruption, since she didn't actually know what she was really going to say, she quickly closed her beak and shifted her feet absentmindedly before answering his question.

"N-no. Not mine. I... just like to come here." Unable to meet his eyes for a very different reason, this time, she let her gaze roam out over the tranquil, moonlit scene. A small smile that she couldn't quite explain played at her beak. "It's very pretty, but not useful enough to be contested, I believe." She cleared her throat and shuffled her feet again. "My territory is way further out east, near to the Above the Above Mountains. It's kind of open but... also kind of beautiful in its own way. I guess."