birdie often finds herself sitting in the cathedral, staring blankly at the large cross on the wall. it's often late when she comes in, often after her shift at the secret garden, often when no one is there. she likes it when no one is there, and all she can hear is the sounds the church's infrastructure makes.
she tries to hear god's voice, but she hasn't heard it yet. she wonders if she ever will.
sitting in a pew, hands shoved in the front pocket of her hoodie, she's wearing loose athletic shorts. not church apparel by any means but her shift just ended, and her work "clothes" would be less appropriate. birdie tilts her head when the reverend's voice fills her ears, chuckling under her breath. "they come here looking for the riverman, father. not answers. just desires." just saying his name sends a chill up birdie's spine, her skin pricking up. she sighs, looking at the man for the first time. her grey eyes, once her favorite feature, are now empty.
"just looking for some peace...i've been trying to hear god, but i fear i'm no good at praying," biridie tells him lamely. "do you believe in the riverman, father? is that the right term for you? i don't know much about the..." her finger spins around as she tries to think of the proper term, "the church rankings and whatnot."