18th late afternoon/ early evening.

He shook his head, placing a hand at his side. "The world shall fear, when I am to hold that flute in play." He said with a chuckle, and watched as the little bird hopped to Sinclair.

There she first pecked at him as if to see whether he had anything for her to eat, and when she saw there was nothing of the sort, she hopped up to his ear and then fluttered atop his head. She puffed up her feathers and seated herself down, taking a strand of hair in her beak and nipping at it, in the most adorable way.

She had to croon at the little bird, so cute he looked perched up on his head, nipping away at some hair. From the wrinkles by his eyes, it either hurt or amused the doctor as well, and the bird wasn't pulling that hard, yet.

"I'm pleased ter hear that...though I'm sure Timothy can play fine." She smiled, leaning forwards in her chair. "May I try and hold the bird?"
SHe already had one hand half- reaching for it, but didn't want to try and touch it if it would prove wrong for it, or for her. She could almost pretend, the three of them sitting round a table, that she was back home, with her cousins or friends. Apart from them speaking in ENglish. and the Bird.
Maybe she couldn't pretend that at all, now she thought about it!

"Careful of her pecking you, but.. certainly, you can." Timothy answered and the little bird chirped in response. She looked a bit apprehensive of the offered hand and hopped back first. The later proved to be too far, so that she squeaked and began to flutter her wings trying to carry herself back to the centre top of the head. Once satisfied with where she was she looked as though nothing happened.

Looking again at the outstretched hand she advanced towards it. A slow few hops, uncertain and wary still of the girl. She chirped looking down at the doctor and then at the Hussar as if seeing whether they thought the girl was dangerous and meant to eat her or no.

Not having had his dinner yet, the Hussar couldn't miss the smell of food, that the doctor also had, but made no comment on it, or the fact that he might soon need to depart, being in dear doubt that any of his fellow hussars would mean to save some for him.

"She doesna peck too hard, if that's what ye be feared of." rob tried his most reassuring voice, putting on a solemn expression. To be sure, there had been no drawing of blood yet, at least.

Slowly the bird hopped over to this new creature, unsure but seeming keen to at least take a look. Rob was so engrossed, watching the creature, tidying up after her meal, that it wasn't until a spate of water bubbling over made him remember his meal, still sitting on the hob.

"oh..." he hadn't finished the curse in a long time, never feeling the need when it came to trifles like this. Side-stepping the other two he reached over and pulled up the lid, lifting the pot off the heat a moment and peering inside. The steam was hot but wonderfully damp and cleansing, he felt.
"Sorry." He added, sheepishly, replacing pan and leaving the lid off, "Tis distracted ye have made me, upsetting my lovely calm wagon." He grinned broadly, showing he was aware that it wasn't their fault and his wagon was hardly peaceful, "Can I interest ye in a bite ter eat, when tis done?"

Timothy looked at Sildete deciding that she ought to be the one deciding, while himself he would have loved to take on the invitation, though he was uncertain that he should use the doctor's hospitality so often. He would have to ask how to repay it at least, for he had less money and the army hadn't paid him yet while his prior was stolen or lost.

He glanced at the bird then enjoying its antics. The little thing hopped back and forth a little, then became immersed with the frill of the girl's clothing. Which she indeed had attacked soon, tugging playfully at it with its beak.

Sildete hadn't noticed the sputtering of water, engrossed as she was in untangling the determined beak of the bird, where it had decided to tangle it in her collar.
"You are a silly little thing." she crooned in portugese, muttering to it and only looking up when she realised what was being asked.

Food, cooked by someone else, she was no stranger to. Cooked by men, that happened occasionally too. She eyed the way the doctor reached around and added a sprinkling more salt into the pot, measuring it with his eye and stirring it with one hand, a practised movement.
Abandoning the bird to it's destructive tendancies she glanced at timothy, a question in her eyes. "I would be happy to try it." she confirmed, gamely, "If Timothy will be as well?"

The bird chirped away happily. Just moments ago though, she had puffed up and looked alarmed when Sildete was touching her beak, even if she meant nothing else but to help her.

"If the doctor gives permission, then I would be honoured to join in." The Hussar nodded with a small smile, gazing first at Sildete and then at Sinclair. The little bird had, in the meanwhile, found it's way into getting one of her feet tangled up, and was now hopping on the other one and chirping in distress, fluttering her wings so fast, that one would think she might have some relation to a humming bird, albeit a drunk one.

Rob nodded at Willoughby, removing three plates and setting them on the table, "I wouldna have mentioned it, if I couldna have followed through." He pointed out.

The bird was in a right mess and Sildete possibly couldn't see clearly, as her hands darted in and out to try and free it. It did not seem to make any difference and Rob dearly wished to reach over and free it himself, but he'd known the girl for maybe ten minutes.
He gestured with his head that Willoughby would be better suited to free the bird, knowing he'd be gentle with both 'patients'.

Willoughby looked at Sinclair rather startled, followed the direction that he indicated and it took perhaps another moment for him to realize what the doctor meant. "Oh."

He looked rather embarrassed at the girl as he took a step towards her - a feat with the crammed space of the wagon. "Miss, may I be of aid to you?" He asked politely, knowing that he would cross a certain boundary were he just to reach over and detach the little bird.

The foot of the bird was caught up in her clothes, and it was fluttering up and down, trying to free itself. Her own movements seemed to be doing little to help, mainly because she'd discovered the beak was sharp and tended to take fright when her own fingers got too near.

She watched the discussion playing out between the two men and then smiled when Timothy came near, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "I think that would be best." she tried, lowering her hands, "I can't see what the bird is stuck on."

"Very well." He smiled and took another step forward. "Just don't move, miss. I'll have the bird out in a snap." He reached to the little ball of feathers and curled his fingers over her, so as to subdue her just a little. "There, little one, calm down a little. Everything's going to be alright." And with his other hand he tried to disentangle first the captured leg, gentle of the squeaking and chirping little bird. He ignored her pecks and only murmured gently to the animal, to try and calm her down, so that it would be easier to free her.

Resolutely keeping hands by her sides, Sildete watched Timothy start calming the bird. For some reason, she noted sourly, there was no attempt by the creature to attack his hands and peck him.
Slowly the struggling ceased and she began to feel less troubled by having a permanant bird ornament on her dress. It may be the height of fashion in some places, but she doubted they also flapped like this one did.

Now there was no struggling, or less of it, she half raised her hands, "Shall I hold her while you untangle her leg, Timothy?"

He wasn't sure how the little bird would take it to be touched by the girl again, but he decided to take the risk, and hope that the animal had calmed herself enough to be held, while he could work on her foot. "Please, miss." He nodded and held his hand - the one that had earlier touched the bird's leg - out to her own, so that he could guide it properly to their feathered friend, and that he could show her how to hold the little thing, while he would be free to work on the tangle.

Rob kept an eye on them as he poured the boiling water off into a bowl, setting the sago to one side and turning back to his stew. They were studiously polite to each other, dancing round the acceptable turns of phrase, the acceptable limits of society.
Sildete, of course, was more than willing to push the boundaries but Willoughby was holding back. Breifly he wondered why that was, but decided equally quickly it was none of his problem.

They were both supporting the bird now, Sildete keeping it calm, Willoughby setting to untangling it's leg, or foot. He wasn't sure which bit was tangle.d

"There." He said, his hand touching Sildete's. He smiled and dropped his gaze. "She's free." He spoke softly and motioned to the bird, which could now kick both of her two feet into the air, and looked to have realised that already. She began to squirm and chirp, trying to get out of the woman's hold, thinking that she had been subdued for long enough.

"You can let her go now. She'll be alright." He paused and added warmly. "..You're ok.. as well, I hope, Miss?"

There was a small bird pecking her hand, wanting to be free and letting her know tht on no uncertain terms, but she answered Timothy's question with a yes anyway.
it wasn't a lie, for she felt inexplicably welcome in this small, tidy little wagon. The larger hand touching hers, even if it was for less than a minute, prevented any long- lasting feelings of pain. She smiled up at TImothy, "Yes, thankyou. I am fine."

The sudden clatter of dishes brought her back to the more immediate problem and she released the chirping, ruffled looking bird with a small laugh, "She looks as if she wants to spend the rest of the evening tidying her feathers."

"She will and she'll track you down to have your hair a mess as her feathers are." Timothy smiled at Sildete, watching the bird avoid her frill and rather hop off onto the table, where indeed the first thing she did, was to start grooming her feathers, one by one. She fluffed herself up even more than before, then began settling each in it's proper place a little, chirping away.

"I do hope she has learned her lesson. " He added, blinking at the doctor, only then realising that he was still there." Oh, hey.. you need help as well, sir?"

"Are ye suggeting I am incapable in my old age, lad?" Rob smiled as he placed the pot in the middle fo the table. "Nay, I need no help, once t'brd is off the table. I must get her a perch, else she will be spending her life being shooed off."

He had plopped the pot down by now and was suiting actions to words, flicking long fingers against the ruffled feathers of a proud- looking bird.
"I hope ye both are happy with this- tis a mess I'm afraid, not suited to be served ter guests." He raised and eyebrow and fended a chirping bird out of his hair, which she had taken to sitting on, "But in my defence I had made it fer meself only. I didna expect such pleasant company."

"No sir." He waited for the girl to sit first, having pulled out her chair for her without thinking. Having done this in such a small space as the wagon, was possibly a task in its own.

The little bird hopped closer to the plate, then fluttered away finding herself a perch atop Sinclair's head and once he shooed her away, atop one of the shelves, pecking away at a glass container there.

"It is excellent, sir." At least that's what he remembered Sinclair's cooking to be, and the presentation didn't matter for as long as the food was edible.

Smiling her thanks she sat herself in the offered chair, "Such a gentleman!"

She had to raise herself slightly to peer in the pot, wanting to know what was inside it, making those tasty smells.
The steam was around her face and she retired to her seat feeling damp and hot, and none- the -wiser. "It smells very tasty." SHe smiled, "Though I do not know what is in it."

The plates, she noticed, were no better quality than the ones the average soldier ate off, though somewhat cleaner, she could see. Maybe that was to be expected given his line of work, though.

"Ah no." The Hussar spoke with a smile and took a free seat, deciding to be surprised by the food rather than to inquire on it's look. "You should be warned that anything this man makes, ends up rather tasty and good and might spoil one." As it does a soldier. He smiled at the thought, remembering the good food he was receiving so many years ago.

"One day, laddie, I shall drag ye home with me and set ye down at me old table, with instruction ter me sister not ter let ye leave fer days, till ye have eaten more'n enough of her food. Tis enough ter make ye swear never ter eat elsewhere again."

Three plates were served up, small portions than he could have wished, but that was all there was, with bread, and if they wanted more they'd have to go elsewhere.

Ter answer yer question, Sildete lass, tis a mix of whatever is around." He passed her her plate first, with a polite ducking of his head, before passing WIlloughby his and seating himself, rubbing steam off his glasses when he was settled. "See if ye can guess what is in it, then. Tis hot, mind."

"I'll put up a great struggle.. not to have you do this.. I will." He chuckled, for he meant neither what he said, nor seemed worried that he would be so 'dreadfully' dragged to be fed by Sinclair's sister. "You promise a starving soldier that he shall be fed till he could have no more, and you might begin worrying when he had your wagon going the other way."

He smiled and took his first bite, enjoying the taste, though also trying to figure, what Sinclair had made. " Whatever's around, sir?... Ought I ..dare inquire... if that means... indeed.. whatever at all?"

His face changed when he spoke of his sister, though she iddn't know whether it was due to home or food that it did so.

"ANything?" She shared Timothy's doubt that absolutely anything had gone into the stew, and took a sniff. "I'd say onions, fennel, Lemon and fish." She tried, lifting a spoonfull and peering at it intently.
"Apart from that, I am not so sure. though thinking about what I can see here, there are many other things which could be added to it, as well." It certainly lived up to expectation though.

"I'll trust her on the judgment of what might be inside." Willoughby agreed, for his guesses might have been less educated, and less right. Who else might know better than a lass anyhow. That and of course the one who'd made the dish. He took another taste of the food. It was certainly different than what he would eat in the army, though he could not complain about their cook for he did as best he could.

"Have you prepared for the oncoming days, sir. With what promise there might be of battle." He glanced at the girl. "And you miss, you shall be safe, certainly." He smiled. They would win, chase the Frogs all the way to France if it was needed.