Aicha

Nigrescent Nightingale rested on the floor of her caged plantation. She had yet to encounter another of the humans that supposedly control this wildlife prison. She found herself, at night of course, softly whining to herself, the cold, lonely feeling, as only strangers surrounded her. Of course she deserved it. If she trusted that woman enough to just stay upon her property until the antibiotics had worn off, she would definatley not be here. One of the dogs had begun talking to her, when she first come, but not since have they spoken. Now she lie awake, it was strange for her to be awake during the day. Maybe thats why the humans hadn't performed the tests that the dog had said they would. Maybe her actions had given the impression that she was ill. Now, during the day, the ashed hunter would call for the company of any. Even the humans if it would provide her some sort of company, or entertainment. At least it might break her depression.