In which Cuthbert is nearly brained by a bird.

[saikamai]

Even on the island, where the fair weather made the days and weeks run together and blend, marked only, it seemed to Bert, by the disappearance of friends or one of the island's magical anomalies, he found that this time of year made him thoughtful

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[brookesmart]

Brooke ducks just in time, covering her head with both hands. When she straightens it's with a glare in full force, one that she readily aims at Cuthbert. It might be his fault, it might not - the point is he's there to be yelled at, and that's good enough for Brooke.

"Bert!" she shrieks. "What the hell!"

[saikamai]

"Brooke!" Cuthbert yelled back, in an amusingly good imitation. "It's a bird!"

He ran forward, wresting the glove from the parcel, and slipped it on. David careened over Brooke's head and came to land on his forearm, with his golden eyes locked on the girl. "Gods, I can't believe it," he said, looking at Davey with warm wonder. "Last time I saw this fella he was in a pine box."

[brookesmart]

"Oh!" Brooke's face smooths out in surprise. "Was he..." She lowers her voice for the sake of the resurrected bird. "Dead?" She doesn't think much of the thing so far, not after it flew at her face, but it seems to make Cuthbert awfully happy.

[saikamai]

Bert nodded, tight-lipped. "He was. Cort killed him," he said with a rueful smile, at once pleased and uneasy to broach the topic with Brooke. "He might've told you-- must've if you ever asked about his missing eye-- but David here was Roland's particular choice of weapon in his test." The smile broadened into a grin. "And you thought I was beastly!"

[youknow_nothing]

"I reckon y'don't want me t'shoot it down, then," Ygritte drawled, pleased she'd left Misha back at camp.

She sauntered a few steps further, eyes bright and trained on the hawk as it swooped down. With quick hands, she undoes her belt, and holds the sheathed sword out so that the bird might land. "Is it trained, or d'you let it eat all the people who pass by?" Some of her village tried to keep birds, but they were a difficult ally, especially in Winter.

[saikamai]

"Well, I'd prefer you didn't," he said, matching her tone and feeling a grin overtake his face even in the midst of his surprise and panic at seeing the hawk.

"Wow," Cuthbert said simply, staring as she caught up the bird with what seemed to be a single, almost nonchalant gesture. "Canny." He shook his head in an unintentionally comic gesture, as if to clear it of his woozy admiration. "Trained, of course. Trained as a hawk can be, which is to say if you're holding a mouse in your hand, he'll take the mouse over your fingers. The first time."

[youknow_nothing]

"Aye. Some o'my brothers got it into their heads to try and train birds," Ygritte said, holding bird and sword out to him. "But turns out that owls are the least trainable creatures in all o'Westeros."

She grinned, white and crooked, knowingly. "Except for wildling women, o'course. Haven't met the man yet who could hold me down."

[saikamai]

Meanwhile, Cuthbert had wrested open the package and slipped on one of the gloves. He raised his forearm to Davey and clucked his tongue; the hawk responded immediately and eyed Ygritte with bold orange eyes from his new perch.

Cuthbert was considerably less bold, especially after that remark, but her grin was infectious. "Bet you haven't met one that wasn't more than willing to be held down," he said, raising his eyebrows as if he'd scored a conversational point.

[fortuneforbid]

Not two scant moments before, Toby had been chattering madly from his perch on Viola's shoulder. 'Twas his everyday nonsense, his scattered bits of broken dialogue, but this day his mistress was glad of his company, for it made her walk less lonely. She had been glad, or at least inclined to tolerate him, 'til this was broken with a piercing shriek and a storm of flapping wings, a panicked rush to escape. Viola hisses 'tween gritted teeth, for though Toby's talons are not so very sharp, they are enough to rend scratches 'pon the skin-- and his cry, shrill and sharp, had sounded right in her ear.

Louder still, and with sharper talons, sure, the hawk that Viola sidesteps just in time to avoid. She whirls 'round at another sound-- a human voice, one she well knows.

"Call him off! God's teeth," swears she, her voice tight and strained. Tiresome as Toby be at times, if he were by that winged terror caught..!

[saikamai]

"DAVID!" Cuthbert hollered, and whistled shrilly. He sprinted forward, loosed the glove from the parcel, shoving it on and into the air in one deft motion. The hawk wheeled and landed on his arm with a thump, but its beak was wide and yawning, and it bawled angrily at the parrot from its human perch.

"David!" Bert whistled again, this time shorter. "Mind yourself!" He stopped to catch his breath, rolling his eyes at Viola. "Cry your pardon," he huffed. "Man Jesus, that gave me a fright. Are you all right?"

[fortuneforbid]

Viola nods, mute, still gaping like a fool; she needs a moment or two, yet, to take account of what hath passed here. Toby ruffles his feathers and fusses, but speaks not a single word.

Not a word.

When she realizes it, Viola laughs. There is a touch of hysteria in 't, a nervous edge, but sure enough 'tis a laugh comes sputtering from her lips. "It has been two years, coz, two long and betimes torturous years, and not once, never, hath there been occasion on which this fellow will not comment."

Then says she, as though finding this still more hilarious than even that: "... his name is David?"

[saikamai]

Cuthbert smiled tentatively in the face of Viola's laughter; he hadn't been expecting it, and he was still a little ruffled himself. Something about the sound of panicking animals was difficult to shake off, he supposed, and the shock of seeing David back from the dead hadn't helped that much.

"Wha--? Yes! Why're you laughing?" he asked, looking a little offended but unable to help the smile spreading across his face at the sound of her amusement.

[poison_lipstick]

Things with Cuthbert had been better lately. It had been strained for a while, though they'd managed to remain cordial, but the past few weeks the strain had been gradually lessening. Saffron was still genuinely fond of him, and she was pretty sure he was of her too. She wasn't sure, looking back, who had made the first move, but things had grown warmer between them, and Saffron couldn't deny that was a relief. She hadn't wanted to lose Cuthbert's friendship, not for anything, and it was nice to get that back. She still flirted, because it was as natural as breathing, but her manner with him was very much like the way she'd been with Sam - a friend she cared a great deal about, but would never pursue

[saikamai]

"So I do," he said, catching up David on his glove and sweeping him away from Helen gently. "David, meet Helen. Helen, meet David. David, Helen enjoys dancing and pretending to coax free drinks out of me at her own bar. Helen, David enjoys field mice, served immediately. It's about time you met."

He flashed a proud grin at Helen, raising Davey a little higher up for show. The bird's orange eyes flashed, at once alert and terribly empty. "What'd'ya think? Hm?" Bert made a soft clicking noise against the roof of his mouth, smiling up at the bird. "Is she fair? Yes? Yes. He says yes, but not a field mouse, so that makes you considerably less interesting in his book. How are you, by the way?"

[poison_lipstick]

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, David," Saffron said, sketching a playful curtsy. "I suppose I'll forgive you not finding me terrible interesting, since I know your fancy lies elsewhere."

She smiled up at Cuthbert, the returned ease of their conversation still new enough to be somewhat relieving. "I'm just fine, sugar. Trying not to feel old, today." She leaned towards him a little, conspiratorially. "It's my birthday today."

[saikamai]

Bert's expression melted from surprised to reproachful. "Helen, why didn't you say anything? Man Jesus! ...I could pull something together at the club! Why would you keep quiet about a thing like that?" He looked at her with mild, amused suspicion. "It isn't really that you feel old, is it? 'Cause the very notion's preposterous."

[kings_dog]

Sandor had found himself restless that afternoon, and for no reason he could think of, had decided to leave Stranger behind and go for a walk. After he'd been meandering on the paths for almost an hour, he heard Bert's voice and looked around, not seeing him; as his friend barreled around the path, Sandor sidestepped and narrowly avoided being run over. "Hold up," he said, grinning as Bert pulled up short, his expression narrowing as he caught the wild look in Bert's eye. "Everything alright?"

[saikamai]

Cuthbert pointed dumbly over Sandor's shoulder. "Bird! It's my bird! My hawk!" He dodged around Sandor and ran ahead a few steps, peering into the treetops. "Ye gods! I just saw him! You saw him, didn't you?" He whirled around. "He was flying right for you, must've... I don't know... Davey!"

He bit his lip and continued to squint at the treeline, looking for the hawk's silhouette and listening for his call. Bert heard parrots and, from here, could even hear the ocean, but if it weren't for the parcel in his hands, he would've thought the damn thing an apparition. The parcel. Bert walked back towards Sandor, frowning down at it and unwrapping it. "Damn thing dropped this on me on his way through. It's my thing from home, isn't it? That folk sometimes get? But it isn't just these, is it?"

Cuthbert held up the gloves, along with a hood, leash and matching jesses. "That was David," he muttered, as much to himself as Sandor. "Wish he'd get back here..."