At last, Heather's lamplike eyes squinted. The deep melodic sound washed over her like a wave, making the earlike tufts of feathers on her head splay out. If her beak were still a nose, it would have wrinkled.

She was still somewhat baffled, but there was something deep down in her that knew what that sound was. And what the creature was trying to do. And the mostly-ambivalent flabbergasted surprise was replaced by a flare of indignant anger.

How dare this creature try to pull its tricks.

"Wh-- ... hey, shut up!"

SHUT UP GHOST HOOKER.

"That's MINE! Give it back."

She didn't see Maurice.