He eyes the two raven-feathered birds on the feeder. They seem aloof, cold and metal in their demeanour. Unconcerned, he looks them up and down, back and forth he looks at one then the other, until he choses the one that refused eye contact. He likes a challenge.
Delivering his line, smooth-talking jay that we know is: "So, you come here often?
Tired of the irksome one-line pick ups, she ignores him. He takes a couple of sunflower seeds in his gullet and flies off, undaunted.
The squirrel snickers on the other feeder.
She has heard all the lines before in her wild youth. Her back to the trio, hidden behind her bushy tail, she peeks back at them over her shoulders that shake in mirth. She has settled into a great relationship, glad to find a partner who respects her as the nicely groomed tree rat she has turned out to be. She is glad she doesn't need to talk to creeps like this anymore.
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