"You speak? What is your name?" Moiraine shakes her head, looking at the soaked and battered jay. "Wait--"

If Blodwen wants this bird imprisoned, then it is a certainty that she does not. Whatever the Dark One wishes, she opposes and will offer aid against, whether great or small.

The light around her fingertips brightens into a mesh of blue and fire-gold as she begins to bend the wire apart, making an opening large enough to reach into.

Carefully, Moiraine does just that, attempting to curve her hand beneath the bird.