But she stayed. She thought to herself, “The poor creature is probably envious. He is faced with a limited existence. Grounded, so to speak. And his colors are so drab you can barely even see him.” She kind of ruffled her feathers a little, puffing herself up in the process. He was only admiring her, of course. She decided she would be magnanimous and let the poor fellow enjoy looking at her. She lifted her pretty head a little higher.
“Good morning toad.” She said with a squeak. The toad merely continued to gaze at her in that disconcerting way. “I suppose you’re wishing you could fly about in the sun. It must be dark and damp down there. You must get quite frustrated with such a lack of fun. No larking about, no flitting freely from branch to branch, no flying around each corner in anticipation, never knowing just what to expect. Dear me, I am sorry for your plight.”
The toad just sat. After a time he croaked out a response. “I’m sorry if I was staring.” He blinked his large protruding eyes and continued to stare. “I was just thinking how vulnerable you must feel.” He rubbed a rubbery hand over his toad face. “Up there, so far removed from the comforting ground, how dreadful! And goodness, how exposed! You’re so brightly colored that you’re clearly visible to any sort of creature that happens to be about! I do regret your plight, Miss Finch.”
Finch was taken aback. She felt slightly embarrassed that she had misinterpreted the toad’s scrutiny. But even more so, she felt bothered that what she felt to be clearly a superior fashion of lifestyle should be called into question. She chose to ignore the toad, who she now found to be somewhat ignorant and offensive. What a misinformed brute.
3.