Cola Addict

"Relax, kiddo. I hope you've realized I noticed." -> He steps inside, a laze to his steps. He seemed so calm, unbothered, as if he wasn't basically just saying "I know what you are". "Y'know I'm an avian too, kiddo. Have you been takin' care of yourself?"

"I'll be the judge of that, hatchling. Lemme see 'em." -> He made a spinning motion with his pointer finger, waiting for the other to do as they're told. "I shouldda known why my momma bird instincts were kickin' up harder 'round ya."

"Oh little bird..." -> His eyebrows pinched together, face scrunching up at the sight as he stepped closer, gently cupping the younger survivor's face with worry. "Lemme help ya with those wings of yours, yeah? Free o' charge, consider it a gift from a friend, a helpin' hand."

"Go sit down on the bed, kiddo. Lemme see your wings so I can see whatever damage you've done to 'em from not takin' care of 'em." -> He gestures towards the younger's bed before going over there himself, taking his sheath off his belt and setting it aside somewhere. "Now ya gotta tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Hey now." -> He settles himself behind the younger, reaching up and gently tapping them on the top of the head. "A momma bird does what's best fer his hatchlings, Noob. And you're one of 'em. I just need you to relax the best ya can for me and tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Just breathe, little bird. Take some slow breaths fer me. I'll be gentle, okay? Just let me know if anythin' starts hurtin'." -> He reaches over and takes one of the smaller's wings into his hand, carefully starting to move his fingers through the feathers, taking his sweet to separate and take out the old ones. "You're in good hands, I promise. If we need to stop at any point just tell me and we will."

-> Sheds kept the look of horror down as he continued to carefully work his way through the feathers, Adjusting, cleaning and carefully picking out the olds. Admins, this didn't look good at all. "I know, hatchling, I know. Momma will get this done as soon as he can. But we gotta make sure this gets done right or your wings'll only get worse." -> Repeated motions. Adjust, clean, pick. He moved his way through the first wing, eventually getting that one done and moving on to the next one. "Do you need a minute before I keep goin'?"

"Real bad, but not unfixable. You just gotta keep on top of these wings of yours, kiddo. Even if ya can't fly with 'em ya still gotta take care of 'em." -> Gentle, smooth, rhythmic. He repeated the same process with the survivalist's other wing.

-> Sheds immediately pulled his hands back and lifted them up into the air, his head wings spreading out in alarm. Oh fuck, oh shit, what had he done? "Hey now- Calm down, little bird... Calm down. My hands are off ya wings, okay? Just breathe, little bird. You're okay."

"Hey now." -> He started and reached over, gently squeezing the survivalist's shoulder with a chuckle. "Calm down fer me, mkay? I told ya I was gonna help ya get this done, kiddo. A momma bird's gotta make sure his babies are well taken care of!" "How about we give yourself a second to chill. We'll keep goin' once your ready. Both you and I know how sensitive and... Delicate of an issue preenin' is. I want you to be comfortable, to trust me."

"Oh you've come to the king of conversation, little bird." -> He took a moment to scan the other's face, carefully considering the younger's body language before taking ahold of their wing once more, slowly moving his fingers through their feathers. "Did I ever tell ya that my momma LOVED callin' Builds by "Builderboy"? Didn't matter how damn old he was, she'd call 'im Builderboy!"

"She called me all sortas things, little bird. "Dumpling", "puddin' pop", "little bird" and the likes! And yeah, he always got real embarrassed about it but he never said nothin'." "She'd be like "Builderboy! Come be a peach and help momma out over 'ere!" or like "Oh you're such a handsome young man, Builderboy!" It was always funny seein' his face get all pink over it." "Momma used ta be a swordfighter like yours truly back in 'er youth. Real damn good at it too."

"Momma was the one who taught me swordfightin'!" -> He chirped happily, his own head wings flapping a little before folding back into his hair. "Was a real battle of wits and will between us... Momma never went easy on me. Er well- When I was little she did, yeah, but as I got older and more experienced she really cranked it up!"

"Plenty o' times!" -> He kept carefully working his fingers through the other's wing, humming a small tune between his chattering. "And yeah, she would. I'm a lot like 'er y'know. Apple didn't fall too far from the tree and look at the majesty I turned out ta be!"

"They don't call me the greatest swordsman in alla Robloxia for nothin', little bird. I was taught and raised by only the best! She was well known amongst the elders n whatnot." "Man... I wonder how they're doin'. The Elders are... A little easy ta piss off from what I remember. Ya don't wanna mess with powerful beings like 'em. No sir."

"Ya think those swords just came outta nowhere, little bird?" -> He snorted as he finally finished with the preening, lightly patting the other's back before shuffling up to sit beside the survivalist. "SFOTH is as old as time itself. Probably one of the oldest known places in alla Robloxia if ya asked me! The Elders, swordfighters from long long ago, were the ones who created them swords." "Firebrand, Windforce, Illumina, Ghostwalker, Venomshank, Darkheart and the Icedagger. They're all powerful swords that can only be wielded by those the elders deem worthy. Unworthy hands suffer punishments like no else if they try and do so." "All-powerful, all seein' beings that're known for their harsh punishments when it comes to those who seek out the swords for ill intentions."

"Well shit like that just doesn't- Appear outta thin air or nothin', kiddo. Magical items, weaponry or not, always has its origins! The swords had them elders to ask for their existence!" "As for me? Well, being the son of a prior worthy wielder helped a little, but the Elder of Storms saw the potential in me, saw the courage and determination and whatnot I held. Had a warrior's heart, soul and bravery." "Was exactly like momma. That elder was the one who trained me, taught me how to properly use n wield the windforce I possess right now. She spoke highly of me, the others soon followed in her steps and trained me too." "I was beaten and bruised a lot, pushed to my absolute limits. But that didn't stop me. I wanted to be the best I could ever be. And then I was."

"Relax, kiddo. I hope you've realized I noticed." -> He steps inside, a laze to his steps. He seemed so calm, unbothered, as if he wasn't basically just saying "I know what you are". "Y'know I'm an avian too, kiddo. Have you been takin' care of yourself?"

"I'll be the judge of that, hatchling. Lemme see 'em." -> He made a spinning motion with his pointer finger, waiting for the other to do as they're told. "I shouldda known why my momma bird instincts were kickin' up harder 'round ya."

"Oh little bird..." -> His eyebrows pinched together, face scrunching up at the sight as he stepped closer, gently cupping the younger survivor's face with worry. "Lemme help ya with those wings of yours, yeah? Free o' charge, consider it a gift from a friend, a helpin' hand."

"Go sit down on the bed, kiddo. Lemme see your wings so I can see whatever damage you've done to 'em from not takin' care of 'em." -> He gestures towards the younger's bed before going over there himself, taking his sheath off his belt and setting it aside somewhere. "Now ya gotta tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Hey now." -> He settles himself behind the younger, reaching up and gently tapping them on the top of the head. "A momma bird does what's best fer his hatchlings, Noob. And you're one of 'em. I just need you to relax the best ya can for me and tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Just breathe, little bird. Take some slow breaths fer me. I'll be gentle, okay? Just let me know if anythin' starts hurtin'." -> He reaches over and takes one of the smaller's wings into his hand, carefully starting to move his fingers through the feathers, taking his sweet to separate and take out the old ones. "You're in good hands, I promise. If we need to stop at any point just tell me and we will."

-> Sheds kept the look of horror down as he continued to carefully work his way through the feathers, Adjusting, cleaning and carefully picking out the olds. Admins, this didn't look good at all. "I know, hatchling, I know. Momma will get this done as soon as he can. But we gotta make sure this gets done right or your wings'll only get worse." -> Repeated motions. Adjust, clean, pick. He moved his way through the first wing, eventually getting that one done and moving on to the next one. "Do you need a minute before I keep goin'?"

"Real bad, but not unfixable. You just gotta keep on top of these wings of yours, kiddo. Even if ya can't fly with 'em ya still gotta take care of 'em." -> Gentle, smooth, rhythmic. He repeated the same process with the survivalist's other wing.

-> Sheds immediately pulled his hands back and lifted them up into the air, his head wings spreading out in alarm. Oh fuck, oh shit, what had he done? "Hey now- Calm down, little bird... Calm down. My hands are off ya wings, okay? Just breathe, little bird. You're okay."

"Hey now." -> He started and reached over, gently squeezing the survivalist's shoulder with a chuckle. "Calm down fer me, mkay? I told ya I was gonna help ya get this done, kiddo. A momma bird's gotta make sure his babies are well taken care of!" "How about we give yourself a second to chill. We'll keep goin' once your ready. Both you and I know how sensitive and... Delicate of an issue preenin' is. I want you to be comfortable, to trust me."

"Oh you've come to the king of conversation, little bird." -> He took a moment to scan the other's face, carefully considering the younger's body language before taking ahold of their wing once more, slowly moving his fingers through their feathers. "Did I ever tell ya that my momma LOVED callin' Builds by "Builderboy"? Didn't matter how damn old he was, she'd call 'im Builderboy!"

"She called me all sortas things, little bird. "Dumpling", "puddin' pop", "little bird" and the likes! And yeah, he always got real embarrassed about it but he never said nothin'." "She'd be like "Builderboy! Come be a peach and help momma out over 'ere!" or like "Oh you're such a handsome young man, Builderboy!" It was always funny seein' his face get all pink over it." "Momma used ta be a swordfighter like yours truly back in 'er youth. Real damn good at it too."

"Momma was the one who taught me swordfightin'!" -> He chirped happily, his own head wings flapping a little before folding back into his hair. "Was a real battle of wits and will between us... Momma never went easy on me. Er well- When I was little she did, yeah, but as I got older and more experienced she really cranked it up!"

"Plenty o' times!" -> He kept carefully working his fingers through the other's wing, humming a small tune between his chattering. "And yeah, she would. I'm a lot like 'er y'know. Apple didn't fall too far from the tree and look at the majesty I turned out ta be!"

"They don't call me the greatest swordsman in alla Robloxia for nothin', little bird. I was taught and raised by only the best! She was well known amongst the elders n whatnot." "Man... I wonder how they're doin'. The Elders are... A little easy ta piss off from what I remember. Ya don't wanna mess with powerful beings like 'em. No sir."

"Ya think those swords just came outta nowhere, little bird?" -> He snorted as he finally finished with the preening, lightly patting the other's back before shuffling up to sit beside the survivalist. "SFOTH is as old as time itself. Probably one of the oldest known places in alla Robloxia if ya asked me! The Elders, swordfighters from long long ago, were the ones who created them swords." "Firebrand, Windforce, Illumina, Ghostwalker, Venomshank, Darkheart and the Icedagger. They're all powerful swords that can only be wielded by those the elders deem worthy. Unworthy hands suffer punishments like no else if they try and do so." "All-powerful, all seein' beings that're known for their harsh punishments when it comes to those who seek out the swords for ill intentions."

"Relax, kiddo. I hope you've realized I noticed." -> He steps inside, a laze to his steps. He seemed so calm, unbothered, as if he wasn't basically just saying "I know what you are". "Y'know I'm an avian too, kiddo. Have you been takin' care of yourself?"

"I'll be the judge of that, hatchling. Lemme see 'em." -> He made a spinning motion with his pointer finger, waiting for the other to do as they're told. "I shouldda known why my momma bird instincts were kickin' up harder 'round ya."

"Oh little bird..." -> His eyebrows pinched together, face scrunching up at the sight as he stepped closer, gently cupping the younger survivor's face with worry. "Lemme help ya with those wings of yours, yeah? Free o' charge, consider it a gift from a friend, a helpin' hand."

"Go sit down on the bed, kiddo. Lemme see your wings so I can see whatever damage you've done to 'em from not takin' care of 'em." -> He gestures towards the younger's bed before going over there himself, taking his sheath off his belt and setting it aside somewhere. "Now ya gotta tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Hey now." -> He settles himself behind the younger, reaching up and gently tapping them on the top of the head. "A momma bird does what's best fer his hatchlings, Noob. And you're one of 'em. I just need you to relax the best ya can for me and tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Just breathe, little bird. Take some slow breaths fer me. I'll be gentle, okay? Just let me know if anythin' starts hurtin'." -> He reaches over and takes one of the smaller's wings into his hand, carefully starting to move his fingers through the feathers, taking his sweet to separate and take out the old ones. "You're in good hands, I promise. If we need to stop at any point just tell me and we will."

-> Sheds kept the look of horror down as he continued to carefully work his way through the feathers, Adjusting, cleaning and carefully picking out the olds. Admins, this didn't look good at all. "I know, hatchling, I know. Momma will get this done as soon as he can. But we gotta make sure this gets done right or your wings'll only get worse." -> Repeated motions. Adjust, clean, pick. He moved his way through the first wing, eventually getting that one done and moving on to the next one. "Do you need a minute before I keep goin'?"

"Real bad, but not unfixable. You just gotta keep on top of these wings of yours, kiddo. Even if ya can't fly with 'em ya still gotta take care of 'em." -> Gentle, smooth, rhythmic. He repeated the same process with the survivalist's other wing.

-> Sheds immediately pulled his hands back and lifted them up into the air, his head wings spreading out in alarm. Oh fuck, oh shit, what had he done? "Hey now- Calm down, little bird... Calm down. My hands are off ya wings, okay? Just breathe, little bird. You're okay."

"Hey now." -> He started and reached over, gently squeezing the survivalist's shoulder with a chuckle. "Calm down fer me, mkay? I told ya I was gonna help ya get this done, kiddo. A momma bird's gotta make sure his babies are well taken care of!" "How about we give yourself a second to chill. We'll keep goin' once your ready. Both you and I know how sensitive and... Delicate of an issue preenin' is. I want you to be comfortable, to trust me."

"Oh you've come to the king of conversation, little bird." -> He took a moment to scan the other's face, carefully considering the younger's body language before taking ahold of their wing once more, slowly moving his fingers through their feathers. "Did I ever tell ya that my momma LOVED callin' Builds by "Builderboy"? Didn't matter how damn old he was, she'd call 'im Builderboy!"

"She called me all sortas things, little bird. "Dumpling", "puddin' pop", "little bird" and the likes! And yeah, he always got real embarrassed about it but he never said nothin'." "She'd be like "Builderboy! Come be a peach and help momma out over 'ere!" or like "Oh you're such a handsome young man, Builderboy!" It was always funny seein' his face get all pink over it." "Momma used ta be a swordfighter like yours truly back in 'er youth. Real damn good at it too."

"Momma was the one who taught me swordfightin'!" -> He chirped happily, his own head wings flapping a little before folding back into his hair. "Was a real battle of wits and will between us... Momma never went easy on me. Er well- When I was little she did, yeah, but as I got older and more experienced she really cranked it up!"

"Plenty o' times!" -> He kept carefully working his fingers through the other's wing, humming a small tune between his chattering. "And yeah, she would. I'm a lot like 'er y'know. Apple didn't fall too far from the tree and look at the majesty I turned out ta be!"

"They don't call me the greatest swordsman in alla Robloxia for nothin', little bird. I was taught and raised by only the best! She was well known amongst the elders n whatnot." "Man... I wonder how they're doin'. The Elders are... A little easy ta piss off from what I remember. Ya don't wanna mess with powerful beings like 'em. No sir."

"Relax, kiddo. I hope you've realized I noticed." -> He steps inside, a laze to his steps. He seemed so calm, unbothered, as if he wasn't basically just saying "I know what you are". "Y'know I'm an avian too, kiddo. Have you been takin' care of yourself?"

"I'll be the judge of that, hatchling. Lemme see 'em." -> He made a spinning motion with his pointer finger, waiting for the other to do as they're told. "I shouldda known why my momma bird instincts were kickin' up harder 'round ya."

"Oh little bird..." -> His eyebrows pinched together, face scrunching up at the sight as he stepped closer, gently cupping the younger survivor's face with worry. "Lemme help ya with those wings of yours, yeah? Free o' charge, consider it a gift from a friend, a helpin' hand."

"Go sit down on the bed, kiddo. Lemme see your wings so I can see whatever damage you've done to 'em from not takin' care of 'em." -> He gestures towards the younger's bed before going over there himself, taking his sheath off his belt and setting it aside somewhere. "Now ya gotta tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Hey now." -> He settles himself behind the younger, reaching up and gently tapping them on the top of the head. "A momma bird does what's best fer his hatchlings, Noob. And you're one of 'em. I just need you to relax the best ya can for me and tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Just breathe, little bird. Take some slow breaths fer me. I'll be gentle, okay? Just let me know if anythin' starts hurtin'." -> He reaches over and takes one of the smaller's wings into his hand, carefully starting to move his fingers through the feathers, taking his sweet to separate and take out the old ones. "You're in good hands, I promise. If we need to stop at any point just tell me and we will."

-> Sheds kept the look of horror down as he continued to carefully work his way through the feathers, Adjusting, cleaning and carefully picking out the olds. Admins, this didn't look good at all. "I know, hatchling, I know. Momma will get this done as soon as he can. But we gotta make sure this gets done right or your wings'll only get worse." -> Repeated motions. Adjust, clean, pick. He moved his way through the first wing, eventually getting that one done and moving on to the next one. "Do you need a minute before I keep goin'?"

"Real bad, but not unfixable. You just gotta keep on top of these wings of yours, kiddo. Even if ya can't fly with 'em ya still gotta take care of 'em." -> Gentle, smooth, rhythmic. He repeated the same process with the survivalist's other wing.

-> Sheds immediately pulled his hands back and lifted them up into the air, his head wings spreading out in alarm. Oh fuck, oh shit, what had he done? "Hey now- Calm down, little bird... Calm down. My hands are off ya wings, okay? Just breathe, little bird. You're okay."

"Hey now." -> He started and reached over, gently squeezing the survivalist's shoulder with a chuckle. "Calm down fer me, mkay? I told ya I was gonna help ya get this done, kiddo. A momma bird's gotta make sure his babies are well taken care of!" "How about we give yourself a second to chill. We'll keep goin' once your ready. Both you and I know how sensitive and... Delicate of an issue preenin' is. I want you to be comfortable, to trust me."

"Oh you've come to the king of conversation, little bird." -> He took a moment to scan the other's face, carefully considering the younger's body language before taking ahold of their wing once more, slowly moving his fingers through their feathers. "Did I ever tell ya that my momma LOVED callin' Builds by "Builderboy"? Didn't matter how damn old he was, she'd call 'im Builderboy!"

"She called me all sortas things, little bird. "Dumpling", "puddin' pop", "little bird" and the likes! And yeah, he always got real embarrassed about it but he never said nothin'." "She'd be like "Builderboy! Come be a peach and help momma out over 'ere!" or like "Oh you're such a handsome young man, Builderboy!" It was always funny seein' his face get all pink over it." "Momma used ta be a swordfighter like yours truly back in 'er youth. Real damn good at it too."

"Momma was the one who taught me swordfightin'!" -> He chirped happily, his own head wings flapping a little before folding back into his hair. "Was a real battle of wits and will between us... Momma never went easy on me. Er well- When I was little she did, yeah, but as I got older and more experienced she really cranked it up!"

"Plenty o' times!" -> He kept carefully working his fingers through the other's wing, humming a small tune between his chattering. "And yeah, she would. I'm a lot like 'er y'know. Apple didn't fall too far from the tree and look at the majesty I turned out ta be!"

"Relax, kiddo. I hope you've realized I noticed." -> He steps inside, a laze to his steps. He seemed so calm, unbothered, as if he wasn't basically just saying "I know what you are". "Y'know I'm an avian too, kiddo. Have you been takin' care of yourself?"

"I'll be the judge of that, hatchling. Lemme see 'em." -> He made a spinning motion with his pointer finger, waiting for the other to do as they're told. "I shouldda known why my momma bird instincts were kickin' up harder 'round ya."

"Oh little bird..." -> His eyebrows pinched together, face scrunching up at the sight as he stepped closer, gently cupping the younger survivor's face with worry. "Lemme help ya with those wings of yours, yeah? Free o' charge, consider it a gift from a friend, a helpin' hand."

"Go sit down on the bed, kiddo. Lemme see your wings so I can see whatever damage you've done to 'em from not takin' care of 'em." -> He gestures towards the younger's bed before going over there himself, taking his sheath off his belt and setting it aside somewhere. "Now ya gotta tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Hey now." -> He settles himself behind the younger, reaching up and gently tapping them on the top of the head. "A momma bird does what's best fer his hatchlings, Noob. And you're one of 'em. I just need you to relax the best ya can for me and tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Just breathe, little bird. Take some slow breaths fer me. I'll be gentle, okay? Just let me know if anythin' starts hurtin'." -> He reaches over and takes one of the smaller's wings into his hand, carefully starting to move his fingers through the feathers, taking his sweet to separate and take out the old ones. "You're in good hands, I promise. If we need to stop at any point just tell me and we will."

-> Sheds kept the look of horror down as he continued to carefully work his way through the feathers, Adjusting, cleaning and carefully picking out the olds. Admins, this didn't look good at all. "I know, hatchling, I know. Momma will get this done as soon as he can. But we gotta make sure this gets done right or your wings'll only get worse." -> Repeated motions. Adjust, clean, pick. He moved his way through the first wing, eventually getting that one done and moving on to the next one. "Do you need a minute before I keep goin'?"

"Real bad, but not unfixable. You just gotta keep on top of these wings of yours, kiddo. Even if ya can't fly with 'em ya still gotta take care of 'em." -> Gentle, smooth, rhythmic. He repeated the same process with the survivalist's other wing.

-> Sheds immediately pulled his hands back and lifted them up into the air, his head wings spreading out in alarm. Oh fuck, oh shit, what had he done? "Hey now- Calm down, little bird... Calm down. My hands are off ya wings, okay? Just breathe, little bird. You're okay."

"Hey now." -> He started and reached over, gently squeezing the survivalist's shoulder with a chuckle. "Calm down fer me, mkay? I told ya I was gonna help ya get this done, kiddo. A momma bird's gotta make sure his babies are well taken care of!" "How about we give yourself a second to chill. We'll keep goin' once your ready. Both you and I know how sensitive and... Delicate of an issue preenin' is. I want you to be comfortable, to trust me."

"Oh you've come to the king of conversation, little bird." -> He took a moment to scan the other's face, carefully considering the younger's body language before taking ahold of their wing once more, slowly moving his fingers through their feathers. "Did I ever tell ya that my momma LOVED callin' Builds by "Builderboy"? Didn't matter how damn old he was, she'd call 'im Builderboy!"

"She called me all sortas things, little bird. "Dumpling", "puddin' pop", "little bird" and the likes! And yeah, he always got real embarrassed about it but he never said nothin'." "She'd be like "Builderboy! Come be a peach and help momma out over 'ere!" or like "Oh you're such a handsome young man, Builderboy!" It was always funny seein' his face get all pink over it." "Momma used ta be a swordfighter like yours truly back in 'er youth. Real damn good at it too."

"Momma was the one who taught me swordfightin'!" -> He chirped happily, his own head wings flapping a little before folding back into his hair. "Was a real battle of wits and will between us... Momma never went easy on me. Er well- When I was little she did, yeah, but as I got older and more experienced she really cranked it up!"

"Relax, kiddo. I hope you've realized I noticed." -> He steps inside, a laze to his steps. He seemed so calm, unbothered, as if he wasn't basically just saying "I know what you are". "Y'know I'm an avian too, kiddo. Have you been takin' care of yourself?"

"I'll be the judge of that, hatchling. Lemme see 'em." -> He made a spinning motion with his pointer finger, waiting for the other to do as they're told. "I shouldda known why my momma bird instincts were kickin' up harder 'round ya."

"Oh little bird..." -> His eyebrows pinched together, face scrunching up at the sight as he stepped closer, gently cupping the younger survivor's face with worry. "Lemme help ya with those wings of yours, yeah? Free o' charge, consider it a gift from a friend, a helpin' hand."

"Go sit down on the bed, kiddo. Lemme see your wings so I can see whatever damage you've done to 'em from not takin' care of 'em." -> He gestures towards the younger's bed before going over there himself, taking his sheath off his belt and setting it aside somewhere. "Now ya gotta tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Hey now." -> He settles himself behind the younger, reaching up and gently tapping them on the top of the head. "A momma bird does what's best fer his hatchlings, Noob. And you're one of 'em. I just need you to relax the best ya can for me and tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Just breathe, little bird. Take some slow breaths fer me. I'll be gentle, okay? Just let me know if anythin' starts hurtin'." -> He reaches over and takes one of the smaller's wings into his hand, carefully starting to move his fingers through the feathers, taking his sweet to separate and take out the old ones. "You're in good hands, I promise. If we need to stop at any point just tell me and we will."

-> Sheds kept the look of horror down as he continued to carefully work his way through the feathers, Adjusting, cleaning and carefully picking out the olds. Admins, this didn't look good at all. "I know, hatchling, I know. Momma will get this done as soon as he can. But we gotta make sure this gets done right or your wings'll only get worse." -> Repeated motions. Adjust, clean, pick. He moved his way through the first wing, eventually getting that one done and moving on to the next one. "Do you need a minute before I keep goin'?"

"Real bad, but not unfixable. You just gotta keep on top of these wings of yours, kiddo. Even if ya can't fly with 'em ya still gotta take care of 'em." -> Gentle, smooth, rhythmic. He repeated the same process with the survivalist's other wing.

-> Sheds immediately pulled his hands back and lifted them up into the air, his head wings spreading out in alarm. Oh fuck, oh shit, what had he done? "Hey now- Calm down, little bird... Calm down. My hands are off ya wings, okay? Just breathe, little bird. You're okay."

"Hey now." -> He started and reached over, gently squeezing the survivalist's shoulder with a chuckle. "Calm down fer me, mkay? I told ya I was gonna help ya get this done, kiddo. A momma bird's gotta make sure his babies are well taken care of!" "How about we give yourself a second to chill. We'll keep goin' once your ready. Both you and I know how sensitive and... Delicate of an issue preenin' is. I want you to be comfortable, to trust me."

"Oh you've come to the king of conversation, little bird." -> He took a moment to scan the other's face, carefully considering the younger's body language before taking ahold of their wing once more, slowly moving his fingers through their feathers. "Did I ever tell ya that my momma LOVED callin' Builds by "Builderboy"? Didn't matter how damn old he was, she'd call 'im Builderboy!"

"She called me all sortas things, little bird. "Dumpling", "puddin' pop", "little bird" and the likes! And yeah, he always got real embarrassed about it but he never said nothin'." "She'd be like "Builderboy! Come be a peach and help momma out over 'ere!" or like "Oh you're such a handsome young man, Builderboy!" It was always funny seein' his face get all pink over it." "Momma used ta be a swordfighter like yours truly back in 'er youth. Real damn good at it too."

"Relax, kiddo. I hope you've realized I noticed." -> He steps inside, a laze to his steps. He seemed so calm, unbothered, as if he wasn't basically just saying "I know what you are". "Y'know I'm an avian too, kiddo. Have you been takin' care of yourself?"

"I'll be the judge of that, hatchling. Lemme see 'em." -> He made a spinning motion with his pointer finger, waiting for the other to do as they're told. "I shouldda known why my momma bird instincts were kickin' up harder 'round ya."

"Oh little bird..." -> His eyebrows pinched together, face scrunching up at the sight as he stepped closer, gently cupping the younger survivor's face with worry. "Lemme help ya with those wings of yours, yeah? Free o' charge, consider it a gift from a friend, a helpin' hand."

"Go sit down on the bed, kiddo. Lemme see your wings so I can see whatever damage you've done to 'em from not takin' care of 'em." -> He gestures towards the younger's bed before going over there himself, taking his sheath off his belt and setting it aside somewhere. "Now ya gotta tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Hey now." -> He settles himself behind the younger, reaching up and gently tapping them on the top of the head. "A momma bird does what's best fer his hatchlings, Noob. And you're one of 'em. I just need you to relax the best ya can for me and tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Just breathe, little bird. Take some slow breaths fer me. I'll be gentle, okay? Just let me know if anythin' starts hurtin'." -> He reaches over and takes one of the smaller's wings into his hand, carefully starting to move his fingers through the feathers, taking his sweet to separate and take out the old ones. "You're in good hands, I promise. If we need to stop at any point just tell me and we will."

-> Sheds kept the look of horror down as he continued to carefully work his way through the feathers, Adjusting, cleaning and carefully picking out the olds. Admins, this didn't look good at all. "I know, hatchling, I know. Momma will get this done as soon as he can. But we gotta make sure this gets done right or your wings'll only get worse." -> Repeated motions. Adjust, clean, pick. He moved his way through the first wing, eventually getting that one done and moving on to the next one. "Do you need a minute before I keep goin'?"

"Real bad, but not unfixable. You just gotta keep on top of these wings of yours, kiddo. Even if ya can't fly with 'em ya still gotta take care of 'em." -> Gentle, smooth, rhythmic. He repeated the same process with the survivalist's other wing.

-> Sheds immediately pulled his hands back and lifted them up into the air, his head wings spreading out in alarm. Oh fuck, oh shit, what had he done? "Hey now- Calm down, little bird... Calm down. My hands are off ya wings, okay? Just breathe, little bird. You're okay."

"Hey now." -> He started and reached over, gently squeezing the survivalist's shoulder with a chuckle. "Calm down fer me, mkay? I told ya I was gonna help ya get this done, kiddo. A momma bird's gotta make sure his babies are well taken care of!" "How about we give yourself a second to chill. We'll keep goin' once your ready. Both you and I know how sensitive and... Delicate of an issue preenin' is. I want you to be comfortable, to trust me."

"Oh you've come to the king of conversation, little bird." -> He took a moment to scan the other's face, carefully considering the younger's body language before taking ahold of their wing once more, slowly moving his fingers through their feathers. "Did I ever tell ya that my momma LOVED callin' Builds by "Builderboy"? Didn't matter how damn old he was, she'd call 'im Builderboy!"

"Relax, kiddo. I hope you've realized I noticed." -> He steps inside, a laze to his steps. He seemed so calm, unbothered, as if he wasn't basically just saying "I know what you are". "Y'know I'm an avian too, kiddo. Have you been takin' care of yourself?"

"I'll be the judge of that, hatchling. Lemme see 'em." -> He made a spinning motion with his pointer finger, waiting for the other to do as they're told. "I shouldda known why my momma bird instincts were kickin' up harder 'round ya."

"Oh little bird..." -> His eyebrows pinched together, face scrunching up at the sight as he stepped closer, gently cupping the younger survivor's face with worry. "Lemme help ya with those wings of yours, yeah? Free o' charge, consider it a gift from a friend, a helpin' hand."

"Go sit down on the bed, kiddo. Lemme see your wings so I can see whatever damage you've done to 'em from not takin' care of 'em." -> He gestures towards the younger's bed before going over there himself, taking his sheath off his belt and setting it aside somewhere. "Now ya gotta tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Hey now." -> He settles himself behind the younger, reaching up and gently tapping them on the top of the head. "A momma bird does what's best fer his hatchlings, Noob. And you're one of 'em. I just need you to relax the best ya can for me and tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Just breathe, little bird. Take some slow breaths fer me. I'll be gentle, okay? Just let me know if anythin' starts hurtin'." -> He reaches over and takes one of the smaller's wings into his hand, carefully starting to move his fingers through the feathers, taking his sweet to separate and take out the old ones. "You're in good hands, I promise. If we need to stop at any point just tell me and we will."

-> Sheds kept the look of horror down as he continued to carefully work his way through the feathers, Adjusting, cleaning and carefully picking out the olds. Admins, this didn't look good at all. "I know, hatchling, I know. Momma will get this done as soon as he can. But we gotta make sure this gets done right or your wings'll only get worse." -> Repeated motions. Adjust, clean, pick. He moved his way through the first wing, eventually getting that one done and moving on to the next one. "Do you need a minute before I keep goin'?"

"Real bad, but not unfixable. You just gotta keep on top of these wings of yours, kiddo. Even if ya can't fly with 'em ya still gotta take care of 'em." -> Gentle, smooth, rhythmic. He repeated the same process with the survivalist's other wing.

-> Sheds immediately pulled his hands back and lifted them up into the air, his head wings spreading out in alarm. Oh fuck, oh shit, what had he done? "Hey now- Calm down, little bird... Calm down. My hands are off ya wings, okay? Just breathe, little bird. You're okay."

"Hey now." -> He started and reached over, gently squeezing the survivalist's shoulder with a chuckle. "Calm down fer me, mkay? I told ya I was gonna help ya get this done, kiddo. A momma bird's gotta make sure his babies are well taken care of!" "How about we give yourself a second to chill. We'll keep goin' once your ready. Both you and I know how sensitive and... Delicate of an issue preenin' is. I want you to be comfortable, to trust me."

"Relax, kiddo. I hope you've realized I noticed." -> He steps inside, a laze to his steps. He seemed so calm, unbothered, as if he wasn't basically just saying "I know what you are". "Y'know I'm an avian too, kiddo. Have you been takin' care of yourself?"

"I'll be the judge of that, hatchling. Lemme see 'em." -> He made a spinning motion with his pointer finger, waiting for the other to do as they're told. "I shouldda known why my momma bird instincts were kickin' up harder 'round ya."

"Oh little bird..." -> His eyebrows pinched together, face scrunching up at the sight as he stepped closer, gently cupping the younger survivor's face with worry. "Lemme help ya with those wings of yours, yeah? Free o' charge, consider it a gift from a friend, a helpin' hand."

"Go sit down on the bed, kiddo. Lemme see your wings so I can see whatever damage you've done to 'em from not takin' care of 'em." -> He gestures towards the younger's bed before going over there himself, taking his sheath off his belt and setting it aside somewhere. "Now ya gotta tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Hey now." -> He settles himself behind the younger, reaching up and gently tapping them on the top of the head. "A momma bird does what's best fer his hatchlings, Noob. And you're one of 'em. I just need you to relax the best ya can for me and tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Just breathe, little bird. Take some slow breaths fer me. I'll be gentle, okay? Just let me know if anythin' starts hurtin'." -> He reaches over and takes one of the smaller's wings into his hand, carefully starting to move his fingers through the feathers, taking his sweet to separate and take out the old ones. "You're in good hands, I promise. If we need to stop at any point just tell me and we will."

-> Sheds kept the look of horror down as he continued to carefully work his way through the feathers, Adjusting, cleaning and carefully picking out the olds. Admins, this didn't look good at all. "I know, hatchling, I know. Momma will get this done as soon as he can. But we gotta make sure this gets done right or your wings'll only get worse." -> Repeated motions. Adjust, clean, pick. He moved his way through the first wing, eventually getting that one done and moving on to the next one. "Do you need a minute before I keep goin'?"

"Real bad, but not unfixable. You just gotta keep on top of these wings of yours, kiddo. Even if ya can't fly with 'em ya still gotta take care of 'em." -> Gentle, smooth, rhythmic. He repeated the same process with the survivalist's other wing.

-> Sheds immediately pulled his hands back and lifted them up into the air, his head wings spreading out in alarm. Oh fuck, oh shit, what had he done? "Hey now- Calm down, little bird... Calm down. My hands are off ya wings, okay? Just breathe, little bird. You're okay."

"Relax, kiddo. I hope you've realized I noticed." -> He steps inside, a laze to his steps. He seemed so calm, unbothered, as if he wasn't basically just saying "I know what you are". "Y'know I'm an avian too, kiddo. Have you been takin' care of yourself?"

"I'll be the judge of that, hatchling. Lemme see 'em." -> He made a spinning motion with his pointer finger, waiting for the other to do as they're told. "I shouldda known why my momma bird instincts were kickin' up harder 'round ya."

"Oh little bird..." -> His eyebrows pinched together, face scrunching up at the sight as he stepped closer, gently cupping the younger survivor's face with worry. "Lemme help ya with those wings of yours, yeah? Free o' charge, consider it a gift from a friend, a helpin' hand."

"Go sit down on the bed, kiddo. Lemme see your wings so I can see whatever damage you've done to 'em from not takin' care of 'em." -> He gestures towards the younger's bed before going over there himself, taking his sheath off his belt and setting it aside somewhere. "Now ya gotta tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Hey now." -> He settles himself behind the younger, reaching up and gently tapping them on the top of the head. "A momma bird does what's best fer his hatchlings, Noob. And you're one of 'em. I just need you to relax the best ya can for me and tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Just breathe, little bird. Take some slow breaths fer me. I'll be gentle, okay? Just let me know if anythin' starts hurtin'." -> He reaches over and takes one of the smaller's wings into his hand, carefully starting to move his fingers through the feathers, taking his sweet to separate and take out the old ones. "You're in good hands, I promise. If we need to stop at any point just tell me and we will."

-> Sheds kept the look of horror down as he continued to carefully work his way through the feathers, Adjusting, cleaning and carefully picking out the olds. Admins, this didn't look good at all. "I know, hatchling, I know. Momma will get this done as soon as he can. But we gotta make sure this gets done right or your wings'll only get worse." -> Repeated motions. Adjust, clean, pick. He moved his way through the first wing, eventually getting that one done and moving on to the next one. "Do you need a minute before I keep goin'?"

"Real bad, but not unfixable. You just gotta keep on top of these wings of yours, kiddo. Even if ya can't fly with 'em ya still gotta take care of 'em." -> Gentle, smooth, rhythmic. He repeated the same process with the survivalist's other wing.

"Relax, kiddo. I hope you've realized I noticed." -> He steps inside, a laze to his steps. He seemed so calm, unbothered, as if he wasn't basically just saying "I know what you are". "Y'know I'm an avian too, kiddo. Have you been takin' care of yourself?"

"I'll be the judge of that, hatchling. Lemme see 'em." -> He made a spinning motion with his pointer finger, waiting for the other to do as they're told. "I shouldda known why my momma bird instincts were kickin' up harder 'round ya."

"Oh little bird..." -> His eyebrows pinched together, face scrunching up at the sight as he stepped closer, gently cupping the younger survivor's face with worry. "Lemme help ya with those wings of yours, yeah? Free o' charge, consider it a gift from a friend, a helpin' hand."

"Go sit down on the bed, kiddo. Lemme see your wings so I can see whatever damage you've done to 'em from not takin' care of 'em." -> He gestures towards the younger's bed before going over there himself, taking his sheath off his belt and setting it aside somewhere. "Now ya gotta tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Hey now." -> He settles himself behind the younger, reaching up and gently tapping them on the top of the head. "A momma bird does what's best fer his hatchlings, Noob. And you're one of 'em. I just need you to relax the best ya can for me and tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Just breathe, little bird. Take some slow breaths fer me. I'll be gentle, okay? Just let me know if anythin' starts hurtin'." -> He reaches over and takes one of the smaller's wings into his hand, carefully starting to move his fingers through the feathers, taking his sweet to separate and take out the old ones. "You're in good hands, I promise. If we need to stop at any point just tell me and we will."

-> Sheds kept the look of horror down as he continued to carefully work his way through the feathers, Adjusting, cleaning and carefully picking out the olds. Admins, this didn't look good at all. "I know, hatchling, I know. Momma will get this done as soon as he can. But we gotta make sure this gets done right or your wings'll only get worse." -> Repeated motions. Adjust, clean, pick. He moved his way through the first wing, eventually getting that one done and moving on to the next one. "Do you need a minute before I keep goin'?"

"Relax, kiddo. I hope you've realized I noticed." -> He steps inside, a laze to his steps. He seemed so calm, unbothered, as if he wasn't basically just saying "I know what you are". "Y'know I'm an avian too, kiddo. Have you been takin' care of yourself?"

"I'll be the judge of that, hatchling. Lemme see 'em." -> He made a spinning motion with his pointer finger, waiting for the other to do as they're told. "I shouldda known why my momma bird instincts were kickin' up harder 'round ya."

"Oh little bird..." -> His eyebrows pinched together, face scrunching up at the sight as he stepped closer, gently cupping the younger survivor's face with worry. "Lemme help ya with those wings of yours, yeah? Free o' charge, consider it a gift from a friend, a helpin' hand."

"Go sit down on the bed, kiddo. Lemme see your wings so I can see whatever damage you've done to 'em from not takin' care of 'em." -> He gestures towards the younger's bed before going over there himself, taking his sheath off his belt and setting it aside somewhere. "Now ya gotta tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Hey now." -> He settles himself behind the younger, reaching up and gently tapping them on the top of the head. "A momma bird does what's best fer his hatchlings, Noob. And you're one of 'em. I just need you to relax the best ya can for me and tell me if anythin' hurts, okay?"

"Just breathe, little bird. Take some slow breaths fer me. I'll be gentle, okay? Just let me know if anythin' starts hurtin'." -> He reaches over and takes one of the smaller's wings into his hand, carefully starting to move his fingers through the feathers, taking his sweet to separate and take out the old ones. "You're in good hands, I promise. If we need to stop at any point just tell me and we will."