[must be all the zero braincells clonking around in that skull of his.]
Oh! Well, they made this great new invention recently, actually. I don't know if you've heard of it. It's called a "hairbrush" and I'm almost positive you don't own one.
[This is not a slight against them being flat broke and living with nothing but the clothes on their backs and stolen necessities, this is a playful jest. He's playing. He probably should have been born a conure instead, but no, he's just a very silly mockingbird.
But. Oh yeah. Preening. He was supposed to be doing that. Ain doesn't move from his spot, because he's comfortable, but rather folds one of his wings over to get what he can reach. Molting is... Itchy. It's what he imagines lizards must feel like when they shed, but everywhere.
At least he doesn't look like garbage. Last time his feathers decided they didn't want to be part of his body, he sort of looked like he crawled out of a shallow grave or something. Just real messed-up and tired looking.]
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Oh! Well, they made this great new invention recently, actually. I don't know if you've heard of it. It's called a "hairbrush" and I'm almost positive you don't own one.
[This is not a slight against them being flat broke and living with nothing but the clothes on their backs and stolen necessities, this is a playful jest. He's playing. He probably should have been born a conure instead, but no, he's just a very silly mockingbird.
But. Oh yeah. Preening. He was supposed to be doing that. Ain doesn't move from his spot, because he's comfortable, but rather folds one of his wings over to get what he can reach. Molting is... Itchy. It's what he imagines lizards must feel like when they shed, but everywhere.
At least he doesn't look like garbage. Last time his feathers decided they didn't want to be part of his body, he sort of looked like he crawled out of a shallow grave or something. Just real messed-up and tired looking.]