<strong>Name:</strong>Cinnamon<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Park, hiding behind a statue.<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Andy, Drew (and I hope not Andrew) & Dormouse<br/><br/>"You can talk to the ducks," Cinnamon ventured with a wary expression, her book tucked in against the belt at her waist so that it didn't get lost.  Hir....didn't look familiar.  Her?  But that voice...that hair...Him.  Definitely.  But the sort of him who'd try to take her away?  Back to the castle?<br/><br/>Pushing up to her feet, Cinna edged around the rest of the state, her hands following the lines of cool steel and avoiding the bird shit where necessary.  She had a little half smile on her face that was slowly growing.  "Sometimes they talk back," the shy voice ventured further, sweet as honey round the edges, touched with only a bit of spice.<br/><br/>"But...they're not very nice," her bottom lip tucked between her teeth and her eyes danced with quiet humor of the sort that suggests she generally has to keep it hid, to keep from getting smacked. "They called me a Quack." Grin.<br/><br/>"Would you like to help me feed them?"<br/><br/>The bread she held up was moldy and green with white specks all over and it looked as if ought to have been as hard as a rock, but somehow she managed.  She managed in neat and precisely sized little pieces.  Those dead ducks out on the water were clearly not her fault.