TMWSW: A Boy and His Bird Girl

"Oh kind Big Nested One!"

An attempt, at least, at a tackle, or a hug, or a prelude to a roundhouse kick, followed, and I was swathed in warmth. And a whiff of oak.

Cordially, I took the snuggle with a mild nervousness. A little uncharacteristic. But creating a new form of life out of thin air to associate with left even me wary. Not because of the power, but... the partial resignation of it. To plan on moderating it to some degree and sharing the scythe. It was a balancing act. One **** for another was ultimately natural. Middle grounds -- that was much more uncertain. But certain I was to let this tune play.

It was right there in front of me, limbic and wriggling.

So I reasoned, anyway.

The bird girl's feathery wing arms batted against my back as I softly pushed her off, and as I did, I was able to get a good look at her genial face as finally, it -- she reciprocally withdrew, and looked up to me with wide, hazel eyes. Close up, I could see the scar stretching over her eye, which I thought looked pretty snazzy. Then I noticed her noticing me, and her eyes twinkled in some kind of... elated conviction.

I could have sworn a whoosh of air ran through the room at that moment.

"You... you didn't throw me out!" Looking down at herself, the sparrow girl lifted up a wing, then looked back to me, giggling. Somehow, in both a reserved and conflated fashion, she continued, "B-because I'm... special!" At this, she flashed an indulgent smile and closed her eyes as if to stifle another giggle, a knuckle to her lip.

"That's right," I folded an arm over the other. "You're very important. And will play a pretty notable role in my future plans."

"I am?" Her eyes and hawkish pupils pulsed a little.

"You are."

She flushed with a surge of duty, straightening up and puckering her lower lip as she raised her chin. At ease, soldier. "I..." she gulped. "I promise that I will foreveoowhoaaahwh!"

Before any thing more was said, she had pulled up a foot to reposition it and accidentally stepped on a toy truck I, to my rueful laziness, forgot to give back to the neighbors' 2nd grade son after using it for some theater project a bit ago. The sensation caused her to jump up, hopping on one foot while grabbing her other, which only led to her ambling directionlessly and stumbling onto my desk, which jabbed her side quite noisily, which then compelled her to swing an arm over to rub it, causing the span of her wing to knock a row of binders I had on an upper attached shelf, which spilled out and stormily rained down onto her head as she tried to escape only to slip over the same toy truck from before and dip forward, planting herself face first onto the carpet. A Mississippi River of 'ow's' were uttered the entire duration.

I stood by, watched, and, curse me, had a tingling of second thoughts.

"Hey," walking over, I careened my neck forward, "are you..."

Clump!

"Ow!" again, she throated, then clamped her mouth with a wing, while hastily sidling her gaze my way, lips curling in an anxious laugh after just bumping her head against a shelf on my bookcase.

"...okay?" I shot a tendril of air through the corner of my mouth.

"Better than okay," she instantly beamed. By Minos' Labyrinth, that was fast.

"I'm special!"