"Well... remember when we left the unknown and Beatrice said goodbye?" Greg asked. Wirt didn't answer. He was so lost in thought. How terrified he was, how he was so lost, and how hopeless he was. "I thought maybe if we became better friends then she wouldn't want to leave anymore." Greg said as tears began to ride down his face and he began to quiver. Wirt couldn't say anything after what Greg had just said. Wirt just pulled Greg closer and began to cry as well. "Greg, promise me you won't cry over Beatrice. She needs to go home." Wirt said. "Yah. She needs to go home.... just like we did?" Greg asked. "Yes, Greg. Just like we did. Trust me Greg, I know how it feels to miss her. I missed her ever since we left." Wirt said as even more tears ran down his face. "Is that why you wrote all those poems about her?" Greg asked. "Yah that's why- Wait? What?! Those poems are very private! Why where you reading those?" Wirt asked and he wiped away his tears in anger. Greg looked at Wirt straight into his face and tried to smile awkwardly. "Oops...." Greg said as he shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever. Let’s just go back inside. You’re not much of the conversationalist anyway." Wirt said. Wirt was expecting to see them still talking about close when Beatrice tumbled throw the door when Wirt opened it. "What are you doing, Beatrice?" Wirt asked. "Definitely not spying on you. Hahaha...." Beatrice said as she laughed uncomfortably. "Wow, Beatrice. You actually look..... Average." Wirt said as he slapped his head in his imagination. "Uuuuummmm... thanks?" Beatrice said. Beatrice was about to look down to see how it looked until the mother screamed "NO!!! You can't see it until you’re in front of a mirror." "Your mother is the only person I know who can pick out close for someone without the other person knowing what it looked like.” When Beatrice got to the mirror and opened her eyes she was wearing: High tops, a blue tank top, skinny jeans, and her hair was down. "What do you think Wirt?" She asked. "Well. It's not exactly what you would wear and the skinny jeans don't look very-." Wirt could have continued but when he say Beatrice’s face he decided to keep it simple. "You look great." Wirt said. "That's good. Now take that off and put these Pajamas on and get to bed." The mother commanded. They walked down the steps and turned the corner. When Wirt and Beatrice got to the room Beatrice noticed something on his desk. While Wirt wasn't looking Beatrice picked up a crisp piece of paper. It was titled "Beatrice the bird" and she knew it was about her.