[The tea- and soon the book- is set aside as Jonathan goes to grab hold of the errant bird. It's quite easy- Swablu are small the best of days, and Jonathan is frankly massive, with massive hands. The scone- spoils of war- is still firmly wedged in Beak.] I don't imagine you want that back... [he mutters, sighing.]

I'm terribly sorry for that Armin- she had been behaving so well that I hadn't thought it necessary to secure her in her ball this morning. She quite likes perching on someone while sleeping...are you alright? [She didn't scratch his hand or anything he hopes...]