Momentos a'plenty

"No, no, it's not that," he said quickly. "The color is perfect; compliments you nicely, but-" The idiot tit fluttered down and landed on Armando's upturned paw. To her, Armando said, "Look at him and tell me what you think." The bird, long accustomed to Armando's ways, fixed her beady black eyes on Artisan. She looked him up and down quickly and then leaned over to Armando, who leaned in far enough to bury her tiny face into the fluff of his ear. He nodded and mmhm'd and nodded some more, then said, "My thoughts exactly." He then turned his attention to Artisan, who he gave an apologetic smile to as if he hated to give him bad news but felt it necessary.

"Well, my friend...you see, that hat is meant for my head." The tit climbed up his arm thereby freeing Armando to wring his hands in abject sadness. "And my head is a lot smaller than your head, so that hat is...too small for your head, I'm afraid." The tit seemed to have a great idea then and fluttered excitedly up to Armando's ear, where it hurriedly peeped something. Armando lit up. "Oh, that is an excellent idea, little one!" To Artisan, he said, "My dear has just reminded me that we might have a hat in your size. I'm a trader, you see, and I have lots of hats."

He picked the tit off his head and gently tossed her into the air. "Go, darling, fetch the goods for this dashing man." The little bird did as he asked, flying at a fast clip up into the trees where its tiny form quickly disappeared. To Artisan, Armando explained, "Mostly we deal with land dwellers so we stash our goods up high where thieves can't get them. We're little guys, you see, and predators can be terribly mean sometimes." The last line he said with an expression that suggested he'd been bullied horribly in the past.

There was a sudden commotion in the trees and Armando's eyes went wide with realization. "Oh no, she's so small and the hats are so big, if she's not careful she'll plummet to the ground! Here," he said while holding his paws out to Artisan. "Let me measure the space between your ears and the brim of my hat so I know what size to grab." There was more commotion in the trees and this time a smattering of leaves and a small branch fluttered to the ground. Armando yelled up at the canopy. "Wait, my dear, let me get it! I'm coming, don't hurt yourself!" Clearly frantic and ready to spring for the trees, Armando bounced from foot to foot as he waited with outstretched arms to measure Artisan's head.