"i don't...i don't wanna catch a bird. not even the colorful chickens." He likes the birds. They're one of his favorite things about being outside. Not all of them are nice. But all of them are pretty. He doesn't want to hurt one, he doesn't want to hurt anything, but he also doesn't like the idea of catching one. Birds have wings, and so birds should be able to use them. Even so, he finds himself adding a mumbled: "sorry" as though in penance for this hesitation.

He squeezes their hand in turn, making his way carefully down, trying not to think too much about how he wound up in the lead of this little expedition in the first place. "not really. i mean, um, the castle has a plan for how it moves around. i can just hear what the plan is. so can the other me. we all kind of...ignore time the same way, i think."