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[Ridiculous! What nerve. He looks so proud of himself for his ridiculousness.

At their suggestion, though, he nods and uses both paws and beak to nudge the blocks together into a pile, tucking them back into the corner they'd come from so they're out of the way.]

Can practice after homework when visiting. Make Hunter laugh.

[Or get petted. Both would be a net gain.]

How speak?

[Honestly, the very idea just makes their perfect little boutique feel just how they wanted it to. A safe, shared space for their kids to hang out together and learn and grow and always laugh together. Rue doesn't even mind if their customers might be confused by the sudden juvenile owlbear playing in the back corner, it would mean everything to them.]

Thank you, dear. My darling polite cub.

[When the blocks are put away, Rue will take one of Casey's paws in their own, straightening their posture.]

Speaking is more difficult to describe. I do not know how it feels to speak as a human, but I imagine some of it must be the same. When I was learning, I remember sitting with strong shoulders, being aware of my tongue and my beak. Humans speak so much by forming the sounds with their mouths, but that's more difficult for us. You have to try and shape the words in your throat and with your jaw more than anything. It will sound very strange at first, very throaty, but in time you'll be able to soften your voice.

[His claws curl carefully in their paw, eyes lowering to watch them; he's used to his hand looking small in theirs, but the owlbear paw somehow looks both smaller (in scale) yet larger (due to longer claws than fingers). It's a curious dysphoria that he's still adjusting to. It's closer to normal than that of the pangolin, though, so it isn't too bad. He's getting used to it.

He listens carefully to the explanation, moving his jaw, tongue, and beak slightly to get a feel for each. They indeed feel quite different; the chirps come easily and naturally, but the thought of trying to make mouth sounds with them feels daunting.

Still, Rue manages it, so it's provably possible. He just has to work within the limits they describe.

He's not sure where else to start, so he experiments a bit by working his way through the alphabet to see which sounds come through easier than others. When he finds one that isn't as hard to mimic, he repeats it a few times to improve on the sound. It isn't much, and it probably sounds terrible, but it's a decent baseline for forming words.]

[It is possible and Rue knows their Casey can do it, even if it may take a little bit longer than a lesson or two.]

Just like that, my darling! Here -

[And if there was ever proof that Rue loved their son, it is this: the pair of them sitting on the floor of Rue's new shop, making loud, exaggerated vowel sounds at one another. This is a mother's love.]

[What a racket it would be for anyone who happened to come by, a load of nonsensical warking, but Casey at least seems to be having a good time, and he does show marginal improvement as the lesson carries on.

It's surprisingly tiresome, though; by the end of it, Casey is huffing and puffing through the vowels.]

Lot of effort... how long this take you?

[As long as Casey is having fun, Rue will allow themself to look a little silly, just for their lessons.]

Hm - [A thoughtful flutter of their lashes.] I do not want you to feel discouraged.

[Can owlbears pout? Have the biggest, babiest owlbear pout.]

Will even live that long? Teach to fly instead, just as likely!

You really are fae-touched! Just as dramatic as any faerie I've ever known.

[But that pout is darling and Rue can't help but lift a paw to hide their beak as they giggle at the sight of it. He's just too much.]

Not quite that long. It took me nearly a decade to fully awaken under the magic, so maybe three or four years to learn to speak? So much of that time is fuzzy for me. But I was an animal learning to think and speak for the first time, learning language and sapience all at once. You already have quite the advantage.

[Casey puffs out a breath but relents (dramatically, yes) and lifts both paws to his beak, feeling it out as he tries a few more sounds. Tongue and throat, not beak... it really is very difficult. Even with a head start, several years of this could be very daunting.]

Maybe why so hard. Pangolin can talk perfect. Owlbear change was wild. Angry. Maybe owlbear want to stay wild.

[He's not sure how much sense that made, but it's where his instincts are leading him.]

I hadn't thought of that, but it was a rather traumatic change in comparison, wasn't it?

[As much as Rue would like to forget that night, it lives on in their memory all too vividly, not just the pain and terror, but the animal sounds Casey made coming to their rescue. It had been him, but not him, both at the same time, just more beast than human.]

Casey, may I ask a question, dear?

[He tilts his head at that, chirping a wordless affirmative.]

[A paw crosses the distance between them to take one of Casey's in theirs.]

Are you still frightened of something happening to me?

[It would make sense why Casey might be so unwilling to let go of the owlbear's wildness, the fear he'll need to tap into it again.]

[Casey opens his beak to answer, but halts before he can utter a sound. He chirps uncertainly, claws scraping in the carpet as he mulls over his words.]

Not you, [is at last his answer.] Not only you. Everyone.

[He looks so uncertain, but Rue squeezes at his paw reassuringly, offering whatever strength they have.]

I understand. Even during these quiet, happy times, we can not completely forget what we've all been through. The fae that tried to take you and Peter, who tried to kill me, who took Leo's arm... Truly, I understand still being scared.

[Casey looks down at their joined paws, his claws curling to hold on tight. It's so small now, compared to when he made himself huge to fight. He hasn't been able to recreate it since. Holding onto the wildness of this form makes him feel more secure- like if he could, in a pinch, do it again. If he tames it too much will he go back to being weak?]

Human weak. Pangolin useless. Owlbear strong... owlbear can fight. Protect family.

[It's too simplified, he knows. His human form has its own strength. He can talk, he can fight. But not like this, the raw strength of it, the ferocity, the capacity for intimidation. Even with the chainstick Casey's never struck fear in the hearts of his enemies. But he'd seen the change in the unseelie that night. He'd seen the acknowledgment, the hesitance. He'd gone from a target to a source of danger.

...The pangolin is still useless, though.]

[Rue follows his gaze down to their joined paws, quietly admiring the way they fit like this, his tiny one in theirs, two sets of talons gleaming under the bright lights of the shop. The silence stretches for just a few moments too long as Rue focuses on how tiny and small Casey looks beside them.

(As he should, after all, he's still a child.)]

Do you think I'm useless? I cannot fight. I make others step in to take care of me, because I refuse to lift a paw to save myself. Despite my wild shape, I am no better at keeping myself safe, much less fighting back.

[Casey releases a low whine at that, distressed, a little frustrated.]

Not the same! Raised different, not useless. Why give fighter an animal can't fight?

[Their expression only softens at that whine, patient as always.]

Then perhaps the pangolin wasn't meant to fight, just the same as me. Maybe it represents the other side of who you are. The young man who enjoys taking care of himself, being with his family, crafting, writing letters, things that don't necessarily translate to survival.

You still have this form for fighting, so is it really so bad to have another form for other things entirely?

[Casey ducks his head at that, considering. It's true, now that he has the owlbear form, he thinks very little of the pangolin he started with. Yet it is the form those who care about him associate him the most with. Their bond is represented by a stuffed pangolin on Rue's end. Hunter carved a pangolin with which to cap his staff. When discussing familiar forms with Toph, he'd brought up the pangolin, not the owlbear, and she'd been impressed. At least in part, the pangolin has become his ambassador.

Why, though...]

... Maybe not bad. Maybe keep owlbear little wild, then. So pangolin can be weak, and owlbear strong.

[Rue tips forward at that duck of Casey's head to press a few kisses into his feathers, their face nuzzling against his.]

Not weak. Just strong in other ways. The owlbear's frame can certainly take some attacks, but the pangolin's scales must be exceptionally good at defense. That's just a different kind of strong.

[Maybe not ferocious and fear-inspiring like an owlbear, but sometimes protection is just as important.]

Do our lessons interfere with your want to stay wild? We could put them on hold, if you'd like.

[If they're so strong, why are they going extinct?

It's a thought that he feels but does not speak aloud. They're strong against predators in the wild; humans are the danger. Just like humans were strong against just about everything, until the Krang showed up. When the difference in strength is that exponential, sometimes the only option is to die. He can't blame the pangolins for something that happened to his entire species back home. He'll... try to give it more thought.

At their question, he hesitates for but a moment, before shaking his head.]

...Is okay. Will be slow. Maybe practice wild owlbear too sometimes? Keep balance.

[Rue's momentary surprise is obvious at the idea of practicing the wild part too, but for once, they do not immediately brush away the thought. It's terrifying, but in the kind of way that tingles with warm anticipation, not just full on cold dread.

It's a definite improvement to before.]

I can't say that I'm much of an expert at being an owlbear, but maybe, if you would not mind me sometimes holding you back, I will try learning a little more too.

[It still frightens them, to think of what they'd done to the fae who wanted to take Peter back to the Fae Realm, but they'd kept their boy safe, hadn't they? They have a family to protect. They can't just rely on their very own children to save them over and over again.]

[He blinks at that. He'd assumed it would be him training on his own, cultivating that wild side as a trial by error without anyone's influence. But Rue...]

Learn wild... together?

[A different kind of appeal to the lessons they're currently working through, but there's appeal nonetheless. Everything feels easier with Rue at his side.]

[A hint of awkwardness leaves Rue tipping their chin down, head dipped gently. Just the thought has them flushing, heartbeat rising.]

If you would not be terribly embarrassed to see me behave in such a way.

I know it is not at all how I present myself to be. I am who I am, I do not secretly long to be wild. But even if it would be so utterly unbecoming of me, the thought somewhat captivates me. To at least try, with someone safe who would not judge me for it.

[Hastily he shakes his head, scooting closer, squeezing their paw.]

No judge! Embarrassed together. Learn together. [He pauses, because this is something he wasn't meant to know for sure, was told not to look- but in retrospect, makes a lot of sense, how they must have done it so quickly.] ...Catch fish.

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