Apparently the poor delicate bird found a skull once, and, even though he fainted for a whole day, the name stuck! A Shakespearean name is about as close to intellectual as Hamlet'll ever get, unless Bill starts reading Dracula or something to him. Until then, Hamlet just sits mostly on that tree. Who can blame him, it's a dang nice view from up there! Bill once theorized that a powerfull magnetic field holds Hamlet's disembodied feet in place, and that Hamlet could become an unstable black-hole at any minute. Bill took that back when Hamlet started hyperventilating.

The ‘‘brains’’ of the group, Bill will climb Hamlet's tree almost every day, just to sit there and read in his company. being around friends is nice, and being able to casually rub it in that you know all the latin names of the mushrooms over there is a bonus, for him anyway. He's also the one that shakes some sense into Hamlet when the bird's being particularly airheaded. But the thin veneer of smarts vanishes as soon as anything with more than, say, four legs skitters under Bill's nose, and he becomes a bug-hunting machine.

A new friend, met during halloween in an embarrassing misunderstanding, but she's stuck around ever since, even messing up her sleep schedule sometimes just to be around Hamlet and Bill. Well, mostly Hamlet. Currently on the look-out for the ideal cave, or other damp dark home, to live a happy life in! If you know of any boarded up houses with ghostly shreaks, or sea-side caves with apparitions of grieving widows of sailors, be sure to call.