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Bronnie, just off from work and still tired, was collapsed rather awkwardly on a bench, trying to think things over clearly while she stared up at the sky. Ing was perched on the back of the bench, feathers ruffled and looking as thoroughly sulky as it was possible for a raven to look.

With someone coming down the path, though, Ing croaked a warning down at Bronnie; she sat up, and peered at the approaching young man curiously. There was something rather familiar about that tail and horns.

Hesitantly, in case she was wrong, she called out, "Surion? Is that you?" She'd only met him once, so it was hard to be sure, but... she was pretty sure.

Bronnie stared at Surion, feeling lost. She knew him, it was who she thought it was, but... it was clear to her that he didn't recognize her. Well, it hadn't exactly been a major meeting. It was not impossible that he'd just forgotton, or... or something.

Ing made a cackling sound; Bronwen shot her familiar a look. Whatever passed between them in that went beyond words.

"You... you don't remember me, do you?" It seemed best to just come out and say it.

Bronwen blinked at him. "Oh. Oh." She had no idea what to say to that. She shifted over on the bench to make room for him, if he wanted; she sat with her knees drawn up to her chin, her sandaled feet on the bench. "Well, um. I'm Bronwen. Or Bronnie. We met once, I guess."

The little dragonette's gaze was not unnoticed by Ing. The raven cocked his head to one side, and fluffed his ruff of neck feathers, clearly unimpressed.

Ing simply sinks his head down into his ruff of feathers and looks pointedly away from Senti. He is--at least in his mind--too old and dignified for this.

Bronnie gives him a gentle, scolding flick. "Knock it off, Ing." To Surion, she says, "I'd bet that's got to be really hard," trying to sound properly sympathetic. "It's okay. I'm not offended or anything."

"Well, still. I wish I could help, but..." Bronnie shrugged, feeling a bit awkward. She had to admit even to herself that she really hadn't known him well enough to offer anything. "No problem, I guess. We can start fresh."

And then Senti scrambled up her leg; Bronnie jumped, just slightly, and then laughed. Leaning in, she said, "Well, hello there."

Ing deigned to look over at the creature climbing on his dragon. He made a harsh, croaking sound, and looked away again, annoyed.

Bronnie blinked, laughed, and leaned back to give her eyes a break. "Well, hello back." She offered a finger to the little creature, to sniff or rub against or... well, whatever. She had no idea.

Ing croaked, still pointedly looking away. Absently, Bronwen returned, "Oh, quit your grumbling. I'm just being friendly. You could learn a thing or two."

Bronnie raised an eyebrow. "That must be awkward," she said. "The girl, I mean."

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, was a wicked little voice saying that it was a relief to talk about other people's problems. She ignored it as best she could.

Ing apparently decided he had had quite enough; with a small, grumbly noise, the raven hopped from the back of the bench to Bronwen's shoulder. He settled himself there, in his customary place, and glared down at Senti. Bronnie scratched him fondly with her free hand, but she rolled her eyes.