"Ms. Rory Smith," Lola Brandon asked softly, her voice bright with hope, "may I pet your little bird?"
She looked up at Rory with wide, sparkling eyes, her expression so earnest and sweet that refusing her felt almost impossible.
A beautiful girl, smiling shyly, asking permission to touch her pet—how could Rory possibly say no?
"Of course," Rory replied with a gentle laugh, nodding.
The instant she agreed, Lola sprang to her feet, excitement lighting her entire face.
"Ms. Brandon!"
Her two companions reacted immediately, shoulders tensing as they stepped half a pace forward, clearly prepared to intervene at the slightest hint of danger.
Lola waved them off with an easy grin. "Relax. Ms. Rory Smith isn't going to hurt me."
She motioned for them to sit back down, then happily crossed the small distance between them and reached out to stroke Burnt Dumpling's glossy, inky feathers.
"Oh my goodness," she said, delighted. "He's so round! He's still a baby, right?"
Rory hesitated.
