ParrotX2 // Wings

You, much like Parrot, had wings. Beautiful ones, too. Although you rarely seemed to remember that they actually required care. The wings weren't exactly maintenance-free. They needed to be preened, cleaned, and looked after just like fur or hair, especially after weeks of traveling, fighting, and throwing yourself into one dangerous situation after another. Normally, it wasn't particularly difficult. When you weren't completely exhausted, caring for your wings was just another part of your routine. A little picking here and there to remove broken or dead feathers, a thorough wash to get rid of dirt and grime, and perhaps some soothing oils rubbed carefully into the skin beneath the feathers. Nothing terribly complicated. Unfortunately, "nothing terribly complicated" apparently translated into "something you could ignore indefinitely." You had a habit of neglecting your wings whenever things got busy. Then, whenever you finally had a moment to yourself, you were usually too tired to bother. Days became weeks, and weeks became months. The feathers gradually became dusty and tangled, some bent awkwardly from being slept on or caught during battles, while others had become damaged enough that they needed to be removed entirely. Parrot wasn’t going to let it slide. After months of watching you come back from battles with your wings in increasingly miserable condition, he finally reached the end of his patience. The next time you tried to brush him off with some excuse about being "too busy," he grabbed you by the arm and marched you straight into his office. There was no escaping the lecture. "Do you have any idea how long you've been neglecting these?" He sounded genuinely exasperated as he gestured toward your wings. "Months. Months! And don't give me that look. You know perfectly well I'm right." Before you could argue, Parrot had already pulled a chair into place and sat down, effortlessly plopping you onto his lap as though you'd suddenly become far too troublesome to be trusted on your own. "If you won't take care of them yourself, then I'll do it." He set a bowl of comfortably hot water on the nearby desk, along with gentle soaps, clean towels, and a few small bottles of soothing oils. Everything had clearly been prepared beforehand, suggesting that he'd been planning this intervention for quite some time. Parrot carefully spread one of your wings across his lap, examining it with an increasingly disapproving expression. "Look at this mess..." His fingers gently slipped between the layers of feathers, separating them one by one. He worked slowly, careful not to tug or pull anything that was still attached properly. Every so often, he would pause to inspect a feather before plucking out one that was broken, damaged, or already dead. "You're so irresponsible. You neglect them... Gosh, you're so messy!" He grumbled under his breath, though his hands remained surprisingly gentle.