It always used to be her partner that would stick to the fringes and watch from a distance. Natasha was always the one in the middle of it, blending in but still seen and interacted with. She's doing less of that these days. Now it's her sticking to the edge of the festivities, watching more than she engages.

She frowns visibly at the flapping, though she's already reaching for her plate to toss a bit of seasoned salami toward the noise to cut off the inevitable begging for food. It's not what she gets though. Natasha turns her gaze toward the shadows.

"Well met indeed." What is this avian emissary up to?