Page 236 - Mobile Magic

236
She wasn’t sure if she meant it. They were odd, fluffy, little, creamy-brown fuzzballs. Mobo looked slick and colourful in comparison. They had wobbled all over the place when they were flying and were now clumsily hopping from one place to another, flapping their wings to balance. But cute! Yes, they were certainly cute.
As all six of them shuffled along to her lower arm and lined up in a neat row, it came to Saffron just why Mobo so often used the word “we” when he talked to her. He must be speaking for all telephone birds, even those
who ignore human radio transmission.
Saffron wondered whether the little pom-poms sitting there would ever learn English. As if in answer to
her thoughts, came a chorus
of chirping. Together they called, ‘Hello Wonnie!’
then, one after the other in lisping tones, the birds introduced themselves.
‘I’m Bella!’ ‘I’m Tex.’ ‘I’m Cella.’ ‘I’m Buzz.’ ‘I’m Tonie.’ ‘I’m Ringo.’
She smiled at them,
elation flooding through her.