A small flock. Rocket noted. After a few moments, she said, “I was hatched in Suliver’s gang. My father, my sister... my mother. Later I flew with my sister.” She cooed quietly. “I should’ve stayed with the gang. It.. wasn’t safe with just us.”
“Thank you. You’re so sweet,” said Russet, pecking at the bread. Cement could be so thoughtful sometimes.
Nanako: no, it's not safe with such a small group.*she admitted.*
Rocket nodded. “Night.” She cooed, fluffing up her feathers.
*nanako settled in fr the night to.*
Rocket woke up to the chill of the morning. She puffed herself up in annoyance. Usually the cold didn’t affect her this much. Maybe it’s my injury. She glanced at her wrapped wing with disgust, as if it was the wound was her wing’s fault. She rustled her wing, wanting to itch at the dried paper that also inconveniently stopped her from flying.
*nanako was still sleeping soundly next to her.*
“Morning,” Russet said softly. Cement had that anticipatory look in her eyes. In Russet’s experience, it was good to get it over with and ask her about it. “We should probably discuss whatever’s on your mind over breakfast. The fields.” Maximum efficiency. Making three decisions in only one sentence (and a fragment.)
Rocket took a moment to observe her surroundings, ignoring the itchy paper wrapping. She saw a pigeon that could be Nanako’s friend, Dane. And there was one of the pigeons she had talked to yesterday, puffed up defensively on a nest. That pigeon over there looked like... Nickel?!
Cement cooed an agreement. First, though, she flapped over to the always-dependable Rikka and asked about the health of the new arrivals. Rikka informed her that three were unharmed, though there were two with wing injuries. “That youngling, Pita, might not be able to fly again. Our field medic, as you know, doesn’t have experience with much other than minor injuries.” She cooed, “Oh, and Pearl’s been taking care of that egg.” She gestured to the newly dedicated pigeon.
