Tap tap.
Frieren felt a faint tapping on her forehead, then she turned to the other side.
Tap tap.
The tapping followed her to the other side.
She rubbed the spot unconsciously, then turned again.
The bird flew off, then returned, a few feathers falling onto her nose; a soft tickle brushed her nose
"What do you want?" she murmured in her sleep.
A rolling sound drifted through the room; to Frieren, it felt like a carriage rocking over uneven stones in her dream.
The bird kept staring, but it wasn't alone.
Even the worker watched her, eyes fixed, as she held the Lazy Susan.
A slow breath escaped Frieren, barely aware of the eyes on her.
The quiet morning light slid across her cheek, warming the spot the feathers had tickled.
The bird tilted its head, as if judging her for oversleeping.
Frieren's brow twitched, the smallest sign of irritation slipping through her sleep-fogged calm.
"Just… five more minutes," Frieren murmured as she relaxed her body; every limb resting at its own tired angle.
"Look, even the bird wants to wake you up…" the worker said with a sigh.
The bird began cleaning its feathers, trusting the worker to finish what it had started.
Then it settled on the window.
A faint breeze slipped through the slight opening, stirring a strand of her silver hair.
The worker hesitated, watching the way Frieren clung to sleep like it was a rare treasure.
Even the bird paused its grooming, eyeing her with a mix of impatience and loyalty.
Frieren's fingers twitched, as if negotiating with her dreams.
Frieren's ear twitched once, the only hint she'd actually heard the worker's voice at all.
The worker saw Frieren's brimmed hat twitch once.
"What's in there?" the worker thought, watching the hat pulse as if something living shifted beneath it.
Her hand reached toward the hat, pulled forward by a curiosity she couldn't ignore.
The bird shuffled back a step, feathers puffing at the sudden shift.
The worker's breath caught, unsure whether to pull away or keep going.
Frieren shifted again, the smallest frown forming as if her dreams felt the stir of something amiss
Thud!
The bird darted toward the worker's face, wings flapping at her.
"S–Stop!!" the worker said as she covered her face with the plate.
Then she fled, closing the door behind her.
Frieren's lips pressed together faintly, then she rubbed her eyes.
She stared at the bird, who was waiting.
"Good morning…" She offered her finger to the bird. It refused to perch on her finger and even seemed to frown.
Frieren tilted her head, her sleepy eyes narrowing in mild confusion at the bird's attitude.
She blinked slowly, uncertain if she had misstepped.
Frieren sat on the bed, and a piece of bread fell gently onto her head.
The bird had thrown it.
She stared toward the window for a moment. The letter lay on the bed; she picked it up.
"So… shall we go?" she said as she ate.