River's favorite spot on the Tam estate had always been the aviary. She would spend hours inside, feeding the birds. Her favorites had always been the nightingales, with their beautiful colored wings and even more beautiful songs.

On her good days - when the inside of her head didn't feel like broken glass - she'd sit at the mess table and sketch them from perfect memory. Today was a good day.

"Mei-mei, that's lovely," Inara said, glancing over at River's sketchpad.

"Nightingales. Ever heard one sing?"

"No, I can't say that I have."

"They sing because they are caged. Because they want to be free. But they are too scared to be free."

And with that, she tore the top sheet off her sketchpad, folded it neatly into quarters and pressed it into Inara's hand.

"Remind me of you."

And she skipped off down the hallway, leaving Inara staring after her.