"Is Skaffwory not doing any better?"

He only huffed at her and began to rummage through his satchel. Kuhyo'ur whistled at him in dismay.

"She broke more?"

"I misjudged how much I needed earlier," Chimbeeriun lied absentmindedly, counting out bills. He handed them over, and when Kuhyo'ur just looked at him, his feathers ruffled with agitation.

"What's the matter? Will you just give them to me?"

"It's really strange, you know," Kuhyo'ur told him.

"What is?"

"That you're...that you're taking care of her." Kuhyo'ur turned back to the shelves and began selecting synthetic shafts and soft plumes that looked like long eyelashes. She wrapped them in parchment and placed them carefully in a woven bag, then handed them to him.

"She can take care of herself, you know."

"Yeah." He doubted it.

She could hear it. "She's an elementalist, after all," she continued. "The only passerine fire elementalist in all of Anthem Low. She doesn't need anyone to mend her feathers for her."

He snatched the bag away from her. "What's your point?" he demanded, already backing off the landing and spreading his wings.

"You still have your hatching name, Chimbeeriun," Kuhyo'ur reminded him, setting one hand on her hip and the other on the egg she had wrapped snugly against her belly. Her feathers had grown out to a huge, nesting fluff in front of her, nearly obscuring it. "You need to find your own."

"What's the rush? What's so important about it?" he snapped at her. "I like my name well enough. I don't think there's anything to having my own name anyway if it doesn't mean anything." He spread his wings.

"It isn't about having a name others think is meaningful," she called after him. "But about having one that proves you have meaning to yourself."

She sighed as she watched him buffet away, in wild yet precise kite angles. Attached to a string.

"Skaffwory is going to die soon," she said aloud, hoping a slyph would catch her words and bring them softly to his ear. "What are you going to do then, Chimbeeriun?"

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