The two were hidden in the dawn's mist, stifling as a death shroud. They had been standing there for several minutes, speaking nothing, waiting for the other.  Both were going through what the other would say, watching it play over and over, flickering through their minds, like an Audrey Hepburn movie. A bird flew past, jamming the movie reel, and each watched it fly on, haphazerdly following its flight pattern.
        "Wouldn't that be nice?", she hazily exclaimed.
        "What? Being a bird?", he replied, meeting her eyes for the first time since meeting that morning.
        "No, having the bird crap on us. What do you think?"  They both gave half-hearted laughs at that, but it was quickly stuffed back down their throats.
        Trying to pick back up the conversation, he said "I was just suprised that you though a bird's migration would be enjoyable. I had thought you didn't want to leave, I had hoped.. ", quickly abandoning the thought.
        "Well, the pigeon can always come back in the spring to see the badger."
        "Why do I have to be the badger?"