Scattered Feathers

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Phil hadn't been lying when he said he was going to keep Quackity in the nest. The man literally would not let him leave it. And the stupid birds kept bring in clothes and blankets that obviously belonged to everyone in the house. The creatures would drape him in them, and Quackity was quick to toss the garments off and out of the nest. And if some of Phil's and Techno's stuff somehow stayed in the nest, well, he just had a bad throw, was all. Although every piece of clothing found its way in to the nest no matter what. He thinks Phil was the one placing them in, weaving them into the side of the nest and adding the scents to the ones in the nest.

Now where Technoblade and Wilbur were, he wasn't too sure, they hadn't been back since they ran away from the otherworldly crow: Brian. Which was silly considering both guys could drop kick the bird at least five football fields. He couldn't understand while they didn't. It's not like the bird could grow into a monster or anything. It was a stupid weird ass crow! And Wilbur and Techno ran away like cowards. Maybe they were scared of what Phil would do if they hurt the crow. Good thing Quackity didn't care either way.

Phil wasn't touching him anymore, which was good, yet weird. His stupid bird brain whined whenever Phil came so close but never made contact. The older avian would maybe fix his feathers, but that was it. A quick fix and then gone. Quackity actually caught himself trying to follow Phil's hand, before he was reminded of his situation. He didn't need Phil's touch, no matter what his stupid instincts wanted. Just like how his instinct still had him looking for Ranger, he didn't need the little crow. He was fine.

He was just fine.

Phil said, he'd let him go once he proved to be a good avian, and could fly. Well, Quackity didn't plan on flying, it wasn't worth the muscle aches. But he could try and be an avian, and maybe Phil would lower his guard and Quckity could leave.

He could leave if he played everything smart. He could leave Phil and his constant chirping. The older avian would literally chirp at him now instead of using words, and would always look disappointed when Quackity never responded back.

He didn't chirp. He never need to chirp. And it didn't matter if his throat clogged up each time. He wasn't a dumb animal like the birds that were always in and out of the nest.

But he could fake it.

He eyes Phil sitting by the door, sipping on a cup of tea with an old enchantment book in his lap. A perfect picture of a relaxed man just sitting down and reading a good book. But Quackity knew. Phil was a warrior, an old warrior. The man was watching Quackity while pretending not to.

If he was going to pretend he better get started. Beside his wings were starting to itch a bit, there were some feathers out of place again and he hated how he was more alert to the discomfort compared to when he first came here. Now misplaced feathers bothered him.

His wings shuffled, behind him as he repositioned himself, the movement seeming to not get Phil to lift his attention from the book in his lap. Which irked Quackity, how dare the man ignore him. Any other time Phil would be hovering over him. So, to test the waters a bit, Quackity let his wings do hard agitated flaps before letting letting them return to the lay flat against his back again, ignoring the uncomfortable pull it put on his muscles.

"Your going to pull your muscles again you keep them like that." Phil said, not even looking up from his book.

"So?!" He snapped, though there wasn't any bite in the remark. He just wasn't sure how to be an avian, to even begin to pretend. How did one ask to get preened without asking? He flap his wings again, and still nothing.