Gilbert was sitting quietly in the middle of a large field where plants he only vaguely thought he might know the names of, leaning back slowly as grassy sprouts cushioned him from the ground from which they drew their life from.
Gilbird had moved almost instinctively to his stomach, where he now sat contented, chirping now and then drowsily to keep awake as the sun shown warmly down onto both of them. The Prussian chuckled, petting the bird's head with one finger.
"Hey, hey Gilbird, you don't want to fall asleep on such a nice day, do you?"
The bird chirped up at him, settling back down and closing his eyes. It seemed indeed he did.