kashiings found a noisy racket
A series of rough chirps and croaks sounded out deep in his throat as he busied himself with the task of sewing a button back onto his waistcoat. At times when he was preoccupied, it was all too easy to fall into the habit of making low bird noises. A form of talking to himself, he used it to express thoughts that didn’t always work in human tongues. As he finished the last stitch he peered at it while giving an approving trill.
He had no spare clothes for the moment so it was fortunate that he always carried a small repair kit in case of emergencies. The small needle and thread were quickly stashed away before he paused to look out across the field at the base of the hill he was resting upon. Shivers briefly ran up his back as a gust of wind overtook him. Shelter was going to be a necessity soon.