I'm sorry it's so short, I'm wrapped up between working on this and Love Never Lies (which I'm going to shamelessly promote, here) so working on chapters is a bit difficult. The next one will be longer, I promise.

"You don't truly believe what that feather-brain is spouting, right?" Soleil glanced at the retreating back of Buck, her eyes narrowed. Their wings beat in tandem against the soft wind as they propelled away from the feeders, towards an alley in the back. The road was crumbly and not at all good for the odd machines the people drove done, often scattering concrete throughout the nearby yards.

For the birds, however, it was a different story. The potholes would fill with water when it rained, making the spots great for bathing and drinking. The largest of the flooded potholes was where the two were headed now.

The chickadee hummed noncommittally, swooping down to sit before the pool. Two sparrows gave her an ugly look as she landed a little too close for comfort. She ignored them.

The water was a tad bit murky from sitting in the dirt all day, but it mattered none to the Songbird as she drank her fill, relishing the taste of the coldness. Beside her, Soleil landed, glancing around. The other chickadee hopped from one foot to the other, looking rather anxious.

Songbird paused, blinking at her friend. "Are you alright?"
"Uh, yeah," she swallowed. "That reminds me, did you hear about this new bird?"

"New bird?" Songbird echoed. "I wasn't aware anybody kept track of who came and who left."

"Of course not, but this one's different. He's as gold as the sunshine, and I heard he's ASTONISHINGLY handsome!" the talkative chickadee replied, her eyes lighting up. Songbird only tilted her head. "Is that so?"

Soleil nodded. "You really ought to meet him. You're so lonely, Songbird. You need someone to make you happy, even if it is for a little bit. I'm not sure how long this one'll stick around, not with winter approaching."

Songbird glanced up, her friend was partially correct. Over the span of a few days, it had gotten terribly chilly. Already she could see the leaves turning shades of red and orange. Not long, she paused, thinking, before it snows.

"I suppose, but Soleil, I'm not interested. I don't need any male bird to make me happy. Besides, you're right, he'll probably leave soon enough. It wouldn't be worth it to meet someone just to see them fly off, never to return."

Her friend let out a snort. "Narcissist."

"Am not!" the chickadee retorted.

"Are too!"

And thus the topic was turned, and the two chickadees thought nothing of it.

XXxxXX

Early next morning, Songbird was settled at one of the feeders, picking through the small seeds. It was late enough that most birds had already eaten their fill, and Buck had yet to rear his head, another gruesome story on the tip of his tongue. She was grateful for the momentary silence, finding a particularly satisfying hulled sunflower seed. Grabbing it in her beak, she flew to a nearby bush to enjoy it.

A moment later, the bush bent slightly beneath her feet. Soleil landed beside her, shaking her feathers to puff them out. "It's cold out," the extroverted bird muttered. Songbird nodded, counting the number of birds at the feeders. She much rather preferred them being empty when she grabbed her meal.

"Songbird, you wanna do a bet?"

Songbird tilted her head, turning to look at her friend. "Depends. Why?"

Soleil shrugged her wings. "I'm bored. Anyway, if you can go up to the Raven's home and say hello, without dying, I'll get you a glob full of that brown peanut-y stuff you like so much!"

"And if I don't?" she inquired.

"Then you have to go and get ME some of the brown stuff," she chirped in response, her beak tilted up. Songbird sighed, glancing upwards towards the tallest tree. It seemed very intimidating and loomed over the two small birds.

"No way!" she squeaked. "Isn't he evil? I really don't feel like getting my neck slit at the moment, Soleil. Besides, h-he's probably not home, or wouldn't answer my calls-"

Suddenly a wing was slapped against her beak, bumping painfully into her eyes. "Ow!" she mumbled through the feathers. She glared at her friend. Soleil, however, wasn't paying attention. The other chickadee's attention was instead trained to a dark spot a few paces away.

Suddenly, the shadow moved.

It wasn't a shadow, either. It was a bird. He was nudging a few sunflower seeds onto a leaf, before grasping the stem and tying it all together. He grabbed the peculiar contraption in his beak, widening his broad, huge wings.

"The Raven," Songbird gasped, her voice barely above a whisper.

His head jerked up, and two ice blue eyes met hers.