"No, it's really not, Parker."

It's not even kind of a happy-place sort of thought.

Meg casts a sidelong glance at the birds. There's a small, quiet, and a bit quasi-hysterical part of her brain wondering if they're going to start cuckooing the hour.

"Maybe if we ignore them, they'll ignore us?

"I mean, they don't seem to be bothering Amy. Maybe if we look like we belong here, they'll assume that we do."