The Mad King's Mate
Probably why I can hear this tiny creature munching on a berry.
I shoot Pip a look of disgust where she sits on my shoulder, swinging her tiny legs and munching noisily on a bright red berry she’d stolen from the breakfast tray.
She shrugs in response, taking a big bite from the berry.
“You know,” Pip says through a mouthful, “if you frown any harder, your face might stick that way forever. Then you’d scare away your mate before you even meet him.”
I shoot her a glare. “You’re not helping.”