He was very comfortable in his little nest, curled up and comfortable. He could still kind of drape his wings over himself too, and he was really happy he got a little nest all for himself.
He wasn’t bothered when Ray sat onto the bed, not knowing why the other had attempted to change him in the first place.
“Name! Want name!”, he chirped, happy. He wanted a name! Dear didn’t seem to be a name, but he wanted one! Was Songbird his name?
He happily trilled to Ray’s humming, enjoying being pet, ruffling his feathers lightly.
emptynarration 