[000]

approval to drop bird anywhere
----------

Round beads rolled over in stormy spheres, and in a blink were flattened and pushed down between downy black feathers.
The magpie closed his bill with an audible clack, white-edge wings spread on a wind that whirled down from mountains in the west.

The ground shimmered white with snow, the morning sun rising over a forest that shuddered against the cold, the long leaves of conifers curling east to catch even the thinnest stroke of light.
A stream curling between the roots of barren birch and willow drew the magpie's eye, and with a flap and a flair of shining tail feathers he spiraled down to perch on the pebbly bank.

The song of other birds stirring for the day sounded distant, a dull thrumming between his ears, and the corvid didn't even cock his head to the call of a crow as he dropped into the burbling shallows.
The water was taken in swallows, icy but refreshing with a slight hint of salt from the sea he'd spotted off the cliffs just a mile or so towards the sun.
He drank his fill before he began to scoop the freezing water over his feathers, washing the dirt and grit from his flashy plumage.

Preening his feathers, he listened to the sound of the wind in the branches, whispering, rustling, creaking.
He paused halfway through to look up, gazing around at his surroundings, soon finding himself doing a double-take at what he saw: an enormous willow, all its leaves shed for the winter, and in the twists and turns of its crooked trunk there rested the aged skulls of beasts, bleached white from the seaborne breeze that commonly passed through the woods.

He stared blearily at the sight, the curious croak that escaped his throat stretching into a long yawn before he shook his head and continued the chilling bath.

[Embsay]

Embsay watched the strange black and white bird dipping and out of the water with rapt attention, his red eyes following every bob of movement and flick of wings. The water beaded in diamond drops across its feathers and those feathers! The white was white, but the black was blue, green, silver and grey all at once. Iridescence was a completely new phenomenon to him and was enthralled. He looked down at his paw, dark against the snow, his own fur was black, mostly, with speckles of red orange common to his family, but it was just the colours it was, no shots of colour shimmered through it. He felt so plain and drab by comparison. He look at the bird again, perhaps it would share? 

Padding closer, ever careful to make as small marks as possible in the snow, though he had to admit it was a little difficult to go anywhere unless you did, he crunched onto the shingle bank of the stream, hoping he wasn't about the startle the beautiful creature. "Hello?" He said brightly to the bird, large puppy ears perked and tail wagging slowly. Then a moments quiet contemplation, where he considered if birds spoke the same language as he did, the bird had been making some odd croaking noises, was that the language he spoke? He should try and speak it too! "Errr...Eeeerrllo?" He tried instead. "Cooooud Iee haarve aerr feeeadder?" Could I have a feather? "Puwaze?" Please?

Of course he could have attempted to take the feathers by force, he was technically the apex predator here, if only a small one, but the thought never even occured it him.

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

[000]

A crunch sent the bird's head spinning 'round, his eyes snapping to a dark form stepping on the stream bank.
His feathers ruffled, his wings lifting halfway, but he didn't fly off quite yet.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment as he stared down the young wolf.

Then it talked.
Then it continued talking.

The magpie squinted stormy gray eyes, his brow furrowing.
Each sentence--if they could even be called that--sounded like a question, like some wimpy kid trying to wheedle his way into being given the last scraps of a meal.
There was a moment of silence after that last word before the bird spoke.

"What in the world are you blathering, pawp?" he squawked in perfectly comprehensible wolfspeak, although there was a notable avian accent.
Then, continuing, he mocked the canid's tone:
"Dieerd somewayne draeeopp youerr onner heeaarrd?"

[Embsay]

OOC: Too lazy to code.

---

"What in the world are you blathering, pawp?"

"Oh you do speak." Embsay said, obviously a little deflated that his first foray into linguistics had been unnecessary and also completely wrong. "Hello! I'm Embsay." He wagged his tail and smiled brightly, practically beaming friendliness and cocked his head at the bird expecting to hear it's name in return.

"Dieerd somewayne draeeopp youerr onner heeaarrd?"

For a second he thought the bird had a really long name and was concerned he would forget it and have to just call him 'Dieerd' but after a moment the meaning of the words became clear. He took a step back, tail tucking and ears sinking like his little heart. "Erm...No... No?" This was taking a turn. A simple hello would have done. Embsay's bottom lip started to wobble. "I-I just wanted s-say he-hello and- and a-ask for a fe-eather." Embsay said miserably, the tears threaten to fall even as he fought them.

"Birds are mean!" He shouted at the bird, being young and new to the complex mine field that was emotions he didn't know how to manage his feelings, just that he was sad the bird was being like this and angry it was making him feel like this.

[000]

The bird gave a haughty huff, his glare sliding just short of the wolf's gaze.
The sudden turn in emotions took him by surprise, but he at least tried to maintain his posturing.

Goodness' sake, Phibs, it was only a /child/.
He winced when the pup shouted at him, and no longer could he hold up the mean look in his eyes.
What a great bird he was, making children cry!

The magpie fluttered his wings to put himself on a twig above the wolf's head, where he decided to shake off the remaining water from his feathers, dropping a spray of water onto the earth below him.
He hoped getting wet might cool the pup off a bit before he spoke again.

"Augh, kid, don't bawl--you'll smudge the clay on your nose," he crowed, shuffling uncomfortably on his perch.
"Look-look--"
He turned his head around, bill picking through the trailing plumage attached to his bum, where he found one shining feather bent and already halfway molted; it was doing more harm than good like that, so he plucked it off and let it drift to the forest floor.
"Ain't that a nice one?" he said with a smooth whistle.

[Embsay]

OOC: I am the slowest person right now! Please forgive me!

The bird fluttered up and Embsay thought he was going to fly away and leave him there, but instead the bright white and black bird perched on a twig above his head. Embsay stared balefully up at it, which was a mistake, as the bird then shook itself, showering the pup with glistening droplets of water which patted onto his upturned face. "Heeeey! What was that for?" He demanded, cuffing angrily at his nose with the back of his paw while giving the bird an accusing look at the same time.

"Augh, kid, don't bawl--you'll smudge the clay on your nose."

Embsay gave a series of very snotty sounding sniffles, and shook his head, ears back, his little mouth puckered up to stop his bottom lip from trembling.

"Look-look-- Ain't that a nice one?"

The bird plucked a feather from its tail and dropped it. Embsay pricked his ears and blinking his wet eyes, a smile of realisation and delight slowly spreading across his features as he watched the feather fall. It swept back and forth a couple of times before landing- as softly as a feather should- on the leafy floor. He trotted forwards to collect it, beaming from ear to ear now, his long tail wagging frenziedly with excitement as he delicately picked up his new treasure. He held it reverently between two toes and stroked its length, admiring the way the colours played and changed as he did so, blue, green, yellow, black and then blue again.

“It’s  beautiful.” Embsay murmered, transfixed by it. “Thank you Mr Bird!” He looked at the feather again, twizzling it around but then he froze suddenly and his smile faded. "I haven't given you anything." He said looking up at the bird again, clearly perturbed by the sudden relaisation this was not a fair exchange. "Um - I haven't really got much... But... But what would you like? I'll try and get it for you!"

[000]

That's fine!
----------

The bird blinked and turned his head so the pup wouldn't see him smile at the compliment and thanks given.

Of course it was beautiful!
He was a very handsome bird after all, and even the worst feather in his plumage soared higher than an eagle.

His head twisted back around when the wolf suddenly exclaimed that he needed to get the bird something, squinting in curious thought.
What in the world could a wolf, no less a pup, offer him that he couldn't get himself?
At first it seemed unthinkable that there were any substantial answers to that question, and he was about to write it off when his creaking belly gave him an idea.

Yes...that was the ticket!

The magpie fluttered his wings as he hopped onto another branch, angling himself to peer through the woods, checking once more to see whether the youngster's parents were anywhere near.
It still seemed a bit odd--perhaps even suspicious--to him, but with the new thought in mind he hadn't time to ponder over it.

Seeing nothing else of note, he finally let his gaze sweep back onto the pup below him.
"Got any meat?" he asked at last.
Carcasses he could feed from were rare to come across; either they'd yet to be opened by another animal, or they'd been picked clean by ravens that would bully him away from the scraps.
Honestly it felt like ages since he'd tasted any flesh that wasn't ticks off a bison's backside.

[Embsay]

"Got any meat?"

"Well... Well... No." Embsay said sadly, his grip on the feather tightening as he realised that, in the spirit of fairness, he should probably return it now... He just really didn't want to.

"But Mum and Dad will have some for all of us later!" He realised and in his excitement garbled it out loud. "I don't know where they get it from though." He added quickly also realising it sounded like he knew where a endless supply was, some sort of magical meat mine, which of course he did not.

He was still so young that it had not actually clicked with him what meat was and where it came from, or that it was even a subject that needed consideration, it was just this tasty red stuff his parents gave him and he and his brothers and sisters ate it. The knowledge that it was in fact the remains of another living creature he was chowing down on would probably have horrfied him and put him right off his dinner.

"I'll save some! I'll bring it out and leave it..." He looked round for a likely spot and saw a mossy boulder nestled next to a thich tree trunk a couple of meters away. "Here! Right here." He bounded over to it and wagged his tail and looking hopefully back at the bird. Was that okay? Could he keep the feather now? Please?

[000]

The magpie clacked his beak and the feathers along his head rose up, appearing momentarily displeased.
What, did the pup take him for a rube?
Gonna take his feather and then run off--just like that?

In the next moment the bird got over it.
He hadn't really expected anything in the first place, and the pup.../seemed/ honest.
Although trustworthiness was the least of his worries when it came to the youngster.
How good was his attention span and memory?

"Sure.
Fine.
Whatever," the magpie sighed, said, and mumbled, fluttering his wings and turning his eyes back on the trees.
Guess he'd just have to wait...nah.
Screw that.

He'll just check back later.

"See you at sunset."
And with that the bird flit off, disappearing into the canopy.
Maybe he'd find something before then so he could be properly prepared for his expecting disappointment.

[Embsay]

"Sure. Fine. Whatever." 

The magpies clear lack of enthusiasm and trust was entirely lost on Embsay. The pup wagged his tail so hard his whole body swayed. The feather was his! He tucked it behind his ear and beamed up at his generous donor.

"See you at sunset."

"Promise!" Embsay shouted at the birds retreating shape.

And it was a promise he would keep.

When evening came the magpie would find Embsay had kept up his end of the bargain. The child had a sense of fairness ingrained so deeply in him that it would have been impossible for him to renege on their bargain. So on the boulder he would place a generous mouthful of meat, most of his supper infact and another gift too, one he considered almost a beautiful as the feather he had been given; the shiny green carapace of a beetle. Of all his collection it was his favourite, until the feather that was. He would place it solomly on the stone in the fading light, taking a long minute to stare at its brilliant gleam, saying silent goodbye. Then he would turn and scamper away throught the long grass, almost swallowed by it save for the tips of his ears, eager to be home before dark.