Winn glanced from the bag to its owner a couple times, looking quite... vacant, sitting there with a crow on his head, and nothing to say. Maybe he was expecting her to say something else.

She didn't.

"Well, uhm."

He chewed his lip.

"It's been very nice to meet you," he said lamely with a polite dip of his head. "I've wasted enough of your time, so I guess I should... I guess I should get back to my search, now!" he nodded again, then turned almost as stiffly as a soldier ordered by drill to left-face, and started to walk away with a complete lack of conviction. It was lose-lose; he could stand there awkwardly, or leave awkwardly. He did something vaguely resembling a half of a wave—but then he stopped just as suddenly, and looked upward. He then proceeded to step backward twice, to where he had started, and turn just as sharply to face her again. His eyes blinked and his lips pulled tight.

"I... I still have your bird."

He did not know how to approach removing it.

The colossus delivered a kiloton of Solemnly Critical Gaze directly on target. He peered into the Phantom’s soul and weighed judgement. The evidence of the matter was pitted against the story, and the mores and moralities of the situation were put against the delineations of cosmic right and wrong with precision and exactitude. The fabric of the matter was put under an electron microscope and right and wrong were delineated with an expert and fair hand.

The creature turned and began to walk away.

“Wait, wait wait wait-wait,” the shrimpy girl on his shoulder began, frantically beating on his head with both fists. The big one was unfazed by the pounding its skull was receiving, but stopped anyway.

“You’re going to let him walk just like that?” she asked, in excitement. “He’s a liar. He’s—he could be a spy! You can’t just let him do whatever!”

The monstrous creature appeared to consider this, and then sloowwwly turned back to face where the phantom had been. Assuming the insidious figure was currently there and not, even at this moment, doing backflips over a distant rooftop, the titan would begin to follow him slowly.

Rhiannon at least seemed considerately oblivious to her company's discomfort, but remained perfectly still throughout Winn's emotional turmoil. Her brows raised with interest, somewhere amid his hemming and hawing, but she remained wordless until he returned from his brief, five-foot, two-second absence to point out that her crow was nesting on him.

"What is it you're searching for?" she asked pointedly, with a slow, deliberate blink. "Maybe I can help you."

Without invitation, she closed the gap between herself and the distressed youth, and made a shooing motion at his head. The bird ensconced there observed her hand irritably for a moment, and then, begrudgingly flew away.

He patted his head to check for... well, better not to think about it. He just dusted his hair off.

"Really?" he said, almost hopefully. "It's... my girlfriend I'm looking for, actually," he then answered. He dropped his backpack from his shoulders and fished out the framed portrait he had been looking at a couple nights ago. It was carefully wrapped, wadded, and packed some old, brown paper.

"I just have this picture of us... I can't remember her name."

A little mistreated, and a little fire damaged, it wasn't the clearest of pictures, but it nonetheless showed what looked like Winn and some girl in a pink and white dress. Her wavy hair was an almost peachy chestnut color, and her eyes were vivid blue, even on the worn paper. It was nighttime in the picture; the immediate background seemed to depict some kind of fairground or festival, though at a glance, it was hard to tell which. Strands of colored bulbs could be seen hung overhead between some kind of booths, while in the distant background, something akin to the bottom part of a Ferris wheel was visible, and yet farther away, a very large mass of glowing lights, perhaps windows on a large building, blurred together.

Perhaps it was rather hopeful of him to think this was his girlfriend, but their posturing looked much too close to be that of a brother and sister. Even on the paper, there was a certain happy glow to it. His face in the present here-and-now soon mirrored it.

Phantom hadn't left as quickly this time, since he no longer felt the pressure of a giant mouth yelling giant words into his decidedly not-giant face. Instead he was just casually strolling along, pondering which place would be best to sneak into to find his man.

It was hard not to notice that the demonic duo were still following him.

"Decided to tag along?" He asked them without looking back over his shoulder. "Is it because you think I have the right idea or because you still don't trust me?"

The girl had tucked herself back into the collar of her guardian’s coat. She watched the Phantom darkly, arms crossed, swaying in time with the titan's footsteps.

“I don’t trust you,” she said, “I think you’re full of it.”

After a few seconds silence, she added: “he trusts you fine, but he’s doing what I say.”

She added the last line with considerable satisfaction.

Rhiannon took the photograph into her hands, delicate brows furrowing over her deep green gaze, which held a certain intensity to it that suggested she was doing more than simply looking at it. After a moment, she looked back up to Winn, as if only just then recalling his presence. Her flicker of a frown was stowed in a hurry, and she smiled in earnest as she passed the frame back to him.

"She's lovely," said the witch, at just barely more than a whisper.

With a quiet sigh, and a reluctant tone, she added, "If I had something that was hers, it'd be as simple as following as map."

Winn rocked his head side to side in shrugging concession. "Can't say I do," he sighed. "But thanks," the boy added.

He paused a second, then looked back to Rhiannon with renewed attentiveness.

"What about you?" he asked vaguely at first, then more clearly, "Don't you have anyone you're looking for? Or anything?"

"Not that I'm aware of," the girl replied with a shrug and a detached tone that seemed to imply it wasn't something that particularly bothered her. "I suppose it's possible I may have someone looking for me, too," she added, with a nod toward the picture, "But something I can't really explain tells me not..."

"Why do—"

Halt. Winn mentally replayed what she had just said, with emphasis on something I can't explain.

"... Okay, fair enough," he corrected his reaction, bobbing his head a couple times.

Then came another kind of awkward silence. Winn half turned and weighed out the notion of departing then and there. He did have things to do.

So this Rhiannon girl I met is... strange. I mean, I guess I'm a little weird, too, but not in the same way. I would say she's "detached," but she isn't apathetic or aloof enough to fit the bill. She's been really nice to me, and acts like she really wants to help. It's like she's just not attached to herself. Does that even make sense? She just doesn't even seem very concerned about who she is.

She's really all cool and powerful and in control and can definitely take care of herself, but at the moment, I started feeling bad about just walking away, because she's even more lost than I am. So, I asked a dumb-sounding question.

"D'you... wanna come with me?"

He shifted uncomfortably and looked off at some fascinating cobblestone. "I mean, maybe we can find out what's going on, y'know? You don't have to feel obligated or anything, though, just, y'know, an idea."

If Rhiannon was bothered by, or even at all noticed Winn's sympathy, one would be hard-pressed to tell with the way her previously placid, almost indifferent smile seemed to warm.

"I'd like that," she said simply, turning her gaze thoughtfully down the street for several silent seconds, before rounding back on the umber-haired boy with oddly piercing interest. "So where were you off to before you decided to shop for memory charms, and champion threadbare old birds?"

From over her shoulder, a protesting caw resonated over the rooftops.

At her question, Winn froze. He looked back toward where he had entered the marketplace, then to Rhiannon again. As if with careful consideration for phrasing (or for a dreadful lack of any good phrasing), he thought a second, then merely pointed an arbitrary direction.

"That way."

Phantom chuckled, which came off a bit more like a weaselly untrustworthy laugh than he intended, as opposed to his usual calm and collected demeanor. That struck him as kind of odd but he really wasn't sure why.

"Personally I think the truth lies between your opinions," he mused as he hopped to another roof. "But not all of us have the advantage of a partner we can trust implicitly."

“You mean you’re only kind of f—hey!”

WW (White Wale) swept his hand up from street level again and shushed TL (Tiny and Loud) in his all-encompassing fashion. She shouted something inaudible from the inside of his hand, and was revealed again, huffing and fuming, after he removed it.

“H-h-hey, what’s the big d-deal, you f-fat lump,” she said, indignantly, “Why do you keep taking his side? You’ve done nothing, but, but, but—I m-m-mean—“

WW shook his head, gently. She stopped her furious sputtering.

Held up a hand, palm flat, to her, as he trundled along. TL reacted instantly, resuming the tirade.

“N-no!” she stammered, “I’m not going to r-ride on your hand! You can just b-b—no wait!”

He had begun to move his hand back down, and she reacted instantly.

“F-fine,” she said, bitterly, “don’t be s-s-such a push-over, ok? I’ll sit on your stupid hand.”

She clambered awkwardly down onto it and curled into a sulky ball. WW cupped his other hand over her, holding her gently between cupped palms like one might hold a frog—only partially encircling her so she could still see and be seen. She remained inside, and did not deign to move, staring morosely out at the world as the two followed on after the ninja.

The strange girl watched in contented silence as the strange boy went about divining some path for them to follow, but kept her amusement politely subtle. Her hands (and bag) swung around behind her back and under her waterfall of platinum hair, while she balanced on the heels of her shoes with immaculate grace until a direction was chosen.

Popping back onto the balls of her feet, Rhiannon leaned forward at the waist, peering after Winn's index finger, with her head at a slight cant as she considered the path.

"That way, huh?" she repeated, pursing her lips. "Sounds like a plan," she at last concluded with a succinct nod.

"As a curiousity," added the witch lightly, with all the sobriety of a park on a sunny day. "Are you particularly attached to that that way, or would another that way where I haven't just chucked an angry carnivorous bird woman suffice?"