The dusty book twitched in Mary's hands, and she squinted, trying to focus on the faded text. She had planned to spend today finishing this volume of fairy tales in the park, and then maybe find somewhere to have dinner and tea afterwards. If all went well, she wouldn't have to speak to anybody, except for maybe the workers in the cafe on the way home. But the person currently occupying the bench next to her was being so loud that she hadn't been able to read a single word yet.

She wasn't exactly opposed to sharing her park bench, of course. It's just, she'd never known anyone to be quite so excited about feeding pigeons. Weren't they more of a nuisance than anything?

"Ahh, don't fight!" the stranger was exclaiming, plunging a hand into his pocket and coming up with yet another handful of bread crumbs. Did he have an entire loaf of bread in there? Mary was trying not to stare, but it was becoming difficult. "I've got more, so you don't have to fight already, okay?"

He scattered the handful of bread crumbs, and if he thought that was going to calm the mangy gray birds, but if anything their frenzy only increased, the seething tangle of feathers growing larger. Mary could have sworn she saw at least two pigeons bob out of the surrounding bushes to join them; she couldn't help watching now, peeking over the edge of her book at the mess.

For some reason, she couldn't find it in her to be too put out over the disruption of her reading time. She'd come here for some peace and quiet, but it's not like he was trying to bother her— although he certainly could stand to lower his voice a little, in her opinion. The spectacle of her bench-neighbor overwhelmed by enthusiastic pigeons was almost a little bit funny. She giggled, clasping a hand over her mouth to hide the sound.

He glanced in her direction, and for a second she thought he'd heard, but he just shot her a grin and then leaned forward to distribute more bread crumbs to the eager birds. They crowded around the both of them now, round his ragged sneakers and her leather boots, and Mary tried not to flinch back too obviously when she tucked her legs under the bench, crossing them at the ankle.

"You're not scared of them, right?" the stranger asked, and Mary hesitated.

The answer was 'no, they're just gross', but he'd greeted the pigeons like they were old friends, and she didn't want him to be offended.

"Don't worry! They like people, especially if they bring food. Here, look!"

As if in slow motion, Mary saw his arm move towards her, fist opening over her skirt to release a shower of crumbs. She didn't even have time to act before she was deluged by pigeons, knocking into her and filling her lap.

With a scream, she scrambled off the bench, tripping and half-falling in the grass.

"Woah, it's okay, they're just friendly—" she half heard through the squabble of birds, but she didn't care how friendly they were. They probably carried diseases, or bugs, or, or—

She hoisted herself to her feet and backed away, ready to flee, when the stranger emerged from the cloud of birds, holding something out to her. She had all the reason to be wary now, but his smile was as friendly as ever, and she realized belatedly that the thing in his hand was her book.

"You almost forgot this," he said, and then glanced to the side, a slight expression of guilt crossing his face. "Er, sorry, I shouldn't have done that… I forgot some people find them kind of overwhelming."

Mary reached out for the book, her hands closing on the cover. It was old, and probably worth a lot, and she would almost certainly get in trouble with the library if it was damaged. But despite her dropping it, there were no tears or obvious smudges on the outside that hadn't been there before. Satisfied, she looked up again.

"I didn't mean to scream," she replied, more than a little embarrassed. She wasn't a little kid anymore, even if she was shy and a bit of a shut in, and often didn't talk to more than one person in a whole week. For someone like her, even having one pigeon thrown in her face would have been a bit overwhelming, let alone a whole flock of them.

"Ha, still— I should have asked. I'm sorry." And then, just when Mary was expecting him to flee, the stranger tilted his head, and asked, "Let me make it up to you? I'll buy you lunch."

If he would bury her in pigeons, who knew what he'd do next? Mary tucked her book under her arm, wanting more than anything to say no and go home and finish reading in the safety of her apartment. But she'd always wanted to go on an adventure, and what was more adventurous than accompanying a mysterious bird boy to lunch?

"There is a cafe I wanted to go to," she said finally, her voice still unsure.

He didn't seem to catch it, though, and instead just beamed back. "Great! Lead the way!"