The pulpy noise of flora being torn from fiber to fiber and the screechy whining that could only belong to one of the new arrivals made Songbirdâs âevil eyeâ twitch. Two things struck him all at once; the first that he was now reacting exactly like Brandy would, the second that wow, the group had already annoyed him within five seconds! What a record breaker! He sighed and flicked his finger up to tip his hat a few inches upward, therefore exposing his heterochromia, then turned around casually as if one of the new humans didnât just do something that could very well burst all of his stress receptors. âPlease refrain from emulating what your charming companion has just recently done,â He shot a sore glare at Vincent, then continued,â Youâll see why in a few seconds.â
It wasnât an empty threat, really. A vine shot out from beside the ones Vincent had ripped, and this one grew fangs as it descended, face to face with the human who maliciously exterminated some of its kin. After splattering a good amount of saliva/resin on Vincentâs face by means of a mighty roar, said vine picked him up by the hood and slung him towards the castle much like a baseball player making his first pitch.
Songbird watched as the human became a tiny spot on the horizon before turning back to the group minus one. âNow, please wait patiently for the minibus,â He muttered, and even before he finished his admonishment a minibus covered in vines (it looked to be made out of wood, too) floated up. Well, get in everyone.
Meanwhile, Vincent landed in a squishy marshmallow platform just as the vine bus pulled into the depot. âYa did somethinâ to da vines, now did ya? Hommuns, ya lot just kenna keep yo hanchs to yaself,â A weathered old beaver wearing the crisp blue uniform of a station attendant sized him up and huffed in exasperation before climbing up the podium. Looks like Mr. Beaver had seen his fair share of rebels in the past, all of whom ended with their butts burrowing deep and leaving yet another (unflattering) impression on the landing square. With a hiss of steam, the minibus rolled and jerked to a stop, and steam hissed from out the overhead machinery as the machine doors open.
Songbird waited for the vehicle to stop completely before stepping off and coaxing the humans to follow suit. âThe engine seems to be in good shape today, Twigs,â He addressed the elderly beaver politely, and the creature grinned toothily before thumping his tail in Vincentâs general direction. âTake it dat oneâs wich ya too, eh?â He snorted, and the item hunter nodded before he even saw who they were talking about.
âWell, Mr. Grieves, how nice of you to join us. Fancy the skyâs much bluer when youâre sailing through it,â Songbirdâs tone was dripping with the sarcasm that none of the other guides dared to talk with. Then again, the dude pissed him off within the first few seconds of their meeting, so he could kiss good conduct hasta la vista, baby.
A-anyway.
Figuring that he could reflect any sort of barb Vincent freaking Vine Puller Rule Violator Sky Sailor Grieves could throw him, Songbird faced the other humans and scanned the clipboard he held for their names. âLesley Labelle, Inadi Sihma, Riley Grayson. Itâs nice to meet you. We are within the lower level of Her Majesty Queen Deliriumâs castle. This is the depot which houses incoming courier minibuses and other small aircraft. Weâll take the lift to the right and arrive directly on the floor where the grand hall is located, where the Queen is waiting along with the other humans.â He paused thoughtfully, then hugged the clipboard to his chest and tucked his chin downward in what seemed to be a very shy manner. âI hope you all get along with each other.â
âIn any case, let us be off!â Songbird cleared his throat awkwardly, pushed both his bashful tendencies aside and then shepherded the humans (yes, even Vincent) to the spacious lift where they began the ascent to meet the Queen.