[color=fff200][h3][i]Corrie Strickman[/i][/h3][/color]
Cordeliamycinth Strickman sighed and rubbed her large yellow eyes. She didn’t feel quite solid enough on the origins and insertions of all the leg muscles and wished she could study just a bit more to feel confident. Always just a bit more…

But the short-eared owl was forced to admit that pulling an all-dayer would not contribute to academic success, especially with that quiz later today. She placed her Common Anatomy notes back into their designated spot in their three-ring binder, which went in its designated spot in a large gray backpack (perhaps comically large for the short student). She neatly combed her speckled feathers and smoothed out her crisp gray slacks. With everything put together in its proper fashion, Corrie shut the door on her horrifically messy dorm and headed out toward the cafeteria.

It was a chilly day, and even on the partly scraped main sidewalks, the snow piled up near Corrie’s knees. If she ventured off the path, she’d have to trudge through half her height in snow. Her fluffy feathers protected her some from the cold – she found the weather tolerable for a short walk but not something she would want to dilly-dally around in. Which was fine, she shouldn’t be wasting time, anyway.

As she approached the cafeteria, Corrie’s sharp ears picked up some kind of music. It wasn’t that rare for a student to perform some form of music or dance or other special talent in the quad. But with a blanket of snow on the ground… [i]that[/i] was unusual. She rounded a corner and saw a small mammal playing… a stringed bass? Or a cello? It was hard to tell. 

The owl let her thoughts slow down for a minute as she kept strolling. The muscle names, the worrisome grades, all disappeared for a moment in the unignorable sound of beauty in the here-and-now. Corrie allowed a small, gracious smile toward the –oh, apparently they were a bat.

A bat! The only mammal that ever achieved true flight. A unique mix between the avians she knew and the mammals which dominated the land. Was a bat light and hollow-boned, like a bird? How did the lack of feathers affect the kinesiology of their gliding? If Corrie ever wanted to biomedically improve avians’ gliding abilities close to their ancient glory, she might need to-

The owl frowned and sighed right as she passed the musical bat. She had tricked herself into thinking about school again. The moment had passed, and Corrie tiredly continued her walk toward the cafeteria, where she would eat some sensible dinner before getting some responsible sleep.

A final flourish sang out from the stringed instrument, and then all was quiet as the frost. Corrie paused in the break between songs and slowly rotated her head halfway around. Looking back at the thing she had passed by.

[i]It’ll just be a few minutes,[/i] Corrie convinced herself as she walked back toward the musician. [i]A few minutes to clear my head will be healthy. Besides, I can call it an educational experience.[/i]

[color=fff200]“Greetings,”[/color] Corrie began, holding her posture high to gaze down the bridge of her beak at the small bat. [color=fff200]“I am a biomedical engineering student, and I could not help but observe how the atypical forked structure of your wings permits you to dexterously perform on an instrument that would otherwise be too massive for such a person. How does the wide spread of your fingers promote or detract from other activities of daily life? And could… could I observe one more musical demonstration of your phalangeal physiology, perhaps? A-a short one.”[/color]