Frost Flowers, In This Heat? BY Morrigan

Wholly uninterested in spending any time walking, once her sister had all but commanded they do so, Mirage shifted. Taking on the appearance of a small, yet gaudily colored bird (a splendid fairywren to be even more specific). Her own birds had hung back from the group, perching from a distance, but never overly far. Especially the one containing the spirit that she'd cast out on the way to this adventure. Small, beady little eyes took the group in, seeking out the best to perch upon. She'd not want to torment her niece or nephew - they suffered enough being children of Morrigan, after all. Nor did Mirage truly care for children - even if neither were truly children any longer. That still left plenty of choices, but she did not wish to perch on whomever might trudge at the back. She'd miss all the action at that rate. No, she had to find someone that would be close to Morrigan. If not Morrigan herself.

A few choice scenarios running through her head lead to her final decision: the white-haired man who seemed to have information. And what better place to be than perched upon the one who'd divulge the needed information. Surely that meant he'd not lag behind. Decision made in mere moments from the time she took on her bird form, Mirage flew herself to the man and settled on his head. She let out a cheep that might have sounded as if she were proud of herself, though truly it was pure, unadulterated amusement.

in this post
Mirage shapeshifts into a splended fairywren and lands on Ragnar (with Grace's permission! <3), bc she's a lazy b and wants a free ride.