( she could muse about the days of sail, the thrashing waters and blessed winds, and the people, oh, she could talk about them all from what she's seen. sharing those days with a bygone god perhaps sounds exciting, because one day maybe he too could tell of his travels and what he's seen. she's close to the idea as she feels him moving about on her legs, and not too long after his beak comes in contact with the tips of her fingers. playfully she drags her index flinger along the length of it until she reaches between the eyes, then further back to rub the feathers at the top of his head. )

Is there something the matter?

( not that she thinks she's doing anything bad to him, but she's even staring down into his beady, little eyes as though she can learn something from them. what is it that causes him to peck and draw her attention, this time rather than it being the wind that normally touches her, it's the creature directly. she should call this progress, a good one seeing how active he is! knowing her abilities was able to draw this much brings a smile to her face, and the backdrop of the stars and the night sky only draws out the ephemeral beauty of it— or so someone would say if they saw it. )

Ah, instead, how about we play a game!

( she seems willing if it'll help any nerves that the avian is having, or maybe it's not what she thinks it is? considering his actions, she should keep her thoughts open to other possibilities. )

You sing me a song when I guess right of what's on your mind?

( all birds have a sweet tune that they know well, and it would do better than nodding his head or lifting a wing; it'd give him something to do, maybe motivate the creature in little ways. whatever it may be, she draws her hands back to place them together; hopefully this game is good enough for the moment. )