The trip is short for an adult, but long for a young thing like herself. By the time they reach the Dale, her thin legs are shaking with the effort. She’s almost too tired to take in their surroundings, but when they do finally stop to rest in the Dale itself, she manages a quick glance around and is immediately blown away.
The Dale is nothing like the den - there’s green (green!) everywhere she looks. She lets out a little gasp of wonder. It’s more beautiful than anything else she’s seen in her short life. She’s too tired now though to do any exploring. She immediately leans into Weir’s speckled side, snuggling into the warmth. He’s gesturing to something though and she pulls her head out of his shoulder to blink at the little birds surrounding them. “S-serus auwoca-capiya?” In her tired state, the latin words make even less sense than they would have normally. “Ovenbird,” is much simpler though. She likes that name better.
Her little brown eyes finally focus on the creature, noticing the orange stripe on its head, and the speckled feathers. “They’re pretty.” It’s more brightly plumed than any bird she’s ever seen - there were only crows in the den. But she’s not really sure about these other things that Weir is talking about. “Oven? What’s an oven?” She knows nothing about such human contraptions. Not yet anyway.
A great yawn escapes her and she once again buries her face in Weir’s side, leaving a long frosty streak on his coat. “Mister Weir I’m tired.” Hopefully there’s somewhere nearby where she can take a nap.
He should introduce her to Darwin.
