We all have some sort of image in our minds, of how we would like to act, when faced with impossible things. Some of us would simply wish to be un-afraid - others, have the desire to be witty and careless, as if they encounter impossible things all the time. We day dream, of how certain encounters will go, even ones that we know will never happen, so that we might, if only in our minds, know what it is like to truly be exactly who you wish to be. Sadly, no matter how many times you might practise - how many times you might lose yourself in a daydream - it never goes that way in real life. Instead, we tend to default back into our old ways, and are never as charming as we mean to be.

As the star-bear-cat-thing draws itself up onto it's hand end, and wobbily takes a step, the golden spy resists the urge to be afraid, and instead falls victim to her natural defence mechanisms. A charming smile erased any apprehension which might previously have distorted her features, as she beams down at the creature who unsteadily moves towards her. From the trees, Stella can sense the uncertainty within her bonded's mind. It is not fear simply....confusion. Again, the orange-faced bird projects a pattern of stars, forcing them upon Phaedra's mind, but the golden-girl is too enraptured by this quaint creature to take much notice. "You sweet thing" She mummers under her breath, selfishly keeping her voice low, so as not to attract any other attention and spoil this private encounter.

As he - for she has decided that it is a he - reaches for the berries, Phae too lowers her pink muzzle down, to his level. Inhaling deeply, she notes that his scent is quite unlike anything she had ever encountered before, and once again she finds herself completely charmed by the creature. Was this how it felt, to have her own magic used on her? Then let it be so, for if it was, then her victims were lucky devils indeed.

As he lowers himself to lay against her, the spy's sparkling sea-green gaze remains fixed upon him - taking in each matted clump of hair, the odd texture of his coat, and the shape of his body. So enraptured is she, that his throaty calls cause her to jump slightly, as the sound pulls her out of her reverie. Lowering her oddly-patterned wings to the ground, Phae creates a make-shift cave around the creature, extending her feathers so that rays of light peak through the shadows. As his tongue brushes her ankle, a maternal sense of joy spreads through her, as she gently moves to rest her muzzle lightly on its back, nuzzling the dew which has formed there.