It's nice to be outdoors. Nicer than being cooped up in a room with no windows, no light streaming in. Mary Margaret much prefers to only use it for mandatory sleeping, heading out into the day the first chance she gets after making herself some breakfast in the kitchen. Once she's outside, she feels she can breathe easier, out underneath the warm sun and surrounded by the open air, letting the breeze welcome her the same way the sound of the birds chattering above her in the trees does. It makes her think of her birds, back home, the ones who come to visit on the windowsill and in the treehouse outside her classroom window, and she idly wonders how they're faring. The seedcakes hanging from the trees will need to be changed soon, she thinks, but there's nothing she can do about it from here.

She stops at the base of a tree almost wistfully, peering up into the branches, and then looks down, crouches slowly as a particularly bright and gorgeous bird hops into view in pursuit of a wayward crumb. "Hello," she whispers, before she realizes that the crumb has a source all its own, and peers around the trunk of the tree, grinning slowly.

"Oh, hi," she replies, rising back up to her feet as she maneuvers around, careful not to disturb the rest of the feeding flock.