The wait
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[AT9 is has landed on a tree branch, waiting for any nightowls to join him on his perch and converse with him] [Perhaps you could help him catch field mice, as they are a delicacy]
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Well played good sir. [AT9 rips off the torso with his unbelievably sharp talons, avoiding other parts with great skill] I'm partial to the tail, if I do say so myself.
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I daresay, what an interesting turn of events! We started out as two feathered blokes sitting on a branch, to brittish-speaking chaps staring at the bloody moon. Where shall this conversation go next my good fellow?
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To hell and back, I would presume.
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Oh my! Why would I go to such a place? [let's do it] I am also unfamiliar with that language, is that the language of the pigmy, perhaps?
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