// 003. [video]
Rickon? Catelyn?
[The feed opens on an ornately carved cage. Weirwood, if one is passing familiar or interested enough to look. The two nightingales inside are huddled together, asleep on their perch.]
Should I be worried?
[A slender, pale hand upturned - a palm full of berries, but neither bird opens its eyes. Sleep is much more interesting at the moment.]
They've been like this all day.
[Yawn.]
Yesterday, too.
[Know who's not sleepy? This little basket of derp. Cheerfully chirping away and already escaped the cage three times today, no sign of shutting up in sight. No sooner is the Forge turned toward the sparrow, than it's headed straight toward her. Favorite thing to do? Why, nest in her hair, of course!
She's slow to react and unable to avoid the collision - a little too used to it, and too tired to do anything but sigh in exasperation.]
Sandor, no.
[Stifling another yawn as she sets down the Forge and attempts to gently shoo the bird from her braid.]
[The feed opens on an ornately carved cage. Weirwood, if one is passing familiar or interested enough to look. The two nightingales inside are huddled together, asleep on their perch.]
Should I be worried?
[A slender, pale hand upturned - a palm full of berries, but neither bird opens its eyes. Sleep is much more interesting at the moment.]
They've been like this all day.
[Yawn.]
Yesterday, too.
[Know who's not sleepy? This little basket of derp. Cheerfully chirping away and already escaped the cage three times today, no sign of shutting up in sight. No sooner is the Forge turned toward the sparrow, than it's headed straight toward her. Favorite thing to do? Why, nest in her hair, of course!
She's slow to react and unable to avoid the collision - a little too used to it, and too tired to do anything but sigh in exasperation.]
Sandor, no.
[Stifling another yawn as she sets down the Forge and attempts to gently shoo the bird from her braid.]