A bespectacled HiveWing carrying several books is frantically trying to sort them out on the move. She looks up and notices you, with a thoroughly intrigued look that reminds you of a researcher discovering a new specimen.

Woah, I’ve never seen you before. Are you new here? What tribe are you? Do you come here a lot? Or, I'm sorry, is that a question I'm not supposed to ask? I ask a lot of questions I'm not supposed to ask, apparently, according to most of my teachers—also my parents—actually, according to pretty much every grown-up HiveWing. Too many questions, Cricket! Don't you know what happens to nosy little HiveWings? They lose those noses! Which is silly; I've never seen a dragonet without a nose and I'm sure I can't be the first one with this many questions. What's your name? Oh, that's another question. Sorry. I'm Cricket.

She’s certainly talkative.