“What if she laughs at us!”

Bryar stopped in her tracks, face turning into a frown as she considered an option that hadn’t occurred to her. Of course, it had occurred to Wayra who both worried over and feared everything. Not to Bryar though who really thought her familiar was just being his usual silly self, which normally was best to ignore but perhaps this time she could offer some comforting words. “Then we punch her in the nose and get on with our day,” she nodded firmly, this was the clear course of action and she started walking again.

Only for the bird to fly straight into her face exclaiming far too loudly for a creature his size, “You can’t do that!” Bryar’s frown returned what was the problem now? “Why not?” It seemed perfectly logical to her. Laughing would be mean. Punching would be required. What was the issue? “Cause… cause… you can’t just do things like that here!” Wayra tried in vain to explain. Bryar pulled a face and waved a hand at the bird till he was forced to fly a way off. “What cause it’s a castle?”
“no cause… cause…,”
“Cause what”
“I mean uh”
“Well that’s just stupid.”

Defeated for now Wayra shut up and flitted next to Bryar as she stalked along the castle corridors clearly on the hunt for something. “You know where were going right?” the sunbird made the mistake to pipe up again and received a scathing look in response. “Sure, I do, it’s round here. I know what I’m doing,” the bird looked sceptical though Bryar couldn’t conceive why, when had she ever led them wrong in the past?

“Here we go,” she paused in front a door, hands on her hips for a moment as she rocked on her heels. “We could not… we could leave,” the sunbird offered one final time. “Don’t be daft,” Bryar huffed as she raised a hand and rapped loudly on the door to particular rhythm. Wayra quickly found his usual perch hiding beneath the hair that fell messily past her shoulders once the door opened.

“S’up,” Bryar beamed in a steady grin. Before giving the poor girl a chance to talk she went and launched straight in, “You wear dresses right… like a lot?” Wayra died slightly the more she continued to talk. “I mean you know how to wear them and you look good in them and stuff. You’re the one who picks ‘em right? I dunno how that works. Guess that's not the point.” She paused and then realised she hadn’t actually asked what she wanted to ask. “Look, there’s the coronation right and everyone’s gunna look all shiny and pretty and sure whatever. I mean I like me; I like how I look, but I wanna look nice you know?” Of course, nice was mostly code for clean and without twigs in her hair but that was neither here nor there. “Can you help me with that?” the actual question came out a little brusquer than intended but still surprisingly sincere.