unperfect day to pretend being nice
#11
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ooc: One more round?

He grimaced as he successifully attatched the bandage in the baby owl, holding his nerves as strong as he could. Ah, it was stupid. Lucky... Keen. Keen, Keen, Keen... His name is Keen, for Christ sake! Lucky... What the hell kind of name was that, for crying out loud...

He tied it as tight as it seemed needed, making a half-ass bow, cursing his belated - in his mind, as he still hadn't the minimun age - shift. How boring it was, not having an opposite thumb. He envied anyone in that form near him. In that situation, it meant his target now was Dawali's femme clone. Better, his daughter. Hmph! He grunted lightly, watching with what looked like a caring father eyes. Well, if that poor crature couldn't have his biological, he could as well have it as him, an adoptive father.

He felt sheepish - no, stupid actually - for thinking like that, but he found out that he could face it. Before that female took the nestling and squeezed him in a hug, he lyed down, his paws forming a circle protecting him from that girl's maternal envied hands, and tried to place it in his head. The poor youngster wouldn't grasp himself in the pale boy's shoulder, and he wouldn't be caring it around in his mouth. Carefully, he equiliobrated the little brat in his head, and it seemed to like, as a confortable chippering came from his head. He laughed once, and got on his feet, careful to don't shake much his head. He could feel the already sharp claws of the owl hold in the tuff of his head, his imaginative mane. It would be good as a nest, as it looked.

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