Agnes was walking through the market, humming to herself softly. She saw the little thing and smiled softly, cringing when she heard the price. She shelled out, however, and got to call him her own.
She picked the cage up and continued walking through the market, giving him a view of everything this place had to offer. “Do you have a name, little one?” She asked quietly.
The little harpy curiously looked around as he was carried in his cage, wanting to know about everything, even though he couldn’t do anything other than stand in his cage.
When he was spoken to, he looked up to Agnes. “Little songbird! Be quiet!”, he chirped. It was the one thing he had always been told, and he didn’t think he had a name.
emptynarration 