Daine hums around another sip of her own tea. It seems a shame to abandon the drinks right after she made them, but Goddess, it's going to be miserable trying to finish them if Martin's just going to fall into awkward silences unless she presses him. She could just ask him what's wrong, since something must be; elsewise he wouldn't be acting so strange. It might not be any of her business -- but then again, she could argue that he made it her business when he asked for a cat. It's not that she thinks he couldn't care for one, or that he doesn't mean well... but if she's to entrust one of her needier friends into his care, she thinks she's within her rights to make sure Martin's got his head in it.

Or maybe he's just having an off day, and she'd only be making it worse to draw attention to it. She chews her lip in consideration, then silently nudges one of the other sparrows to go and say hello. Maybe having another of her friends nearby will help snap him out of whatever this is.

It's a younger, bolder sparrow named Freckle who ends up alighting on the arm of the couch, and then taking a few small hops closer to Martin. "That's Freckle," Daine says innocently enough, as if she hasn't arranged all this. "She's just curious."