ruevealing | folkmore inbox.

I'm gonna fret at least a little, especially if it's me who said the wrong thing. Your feelings matter to me.

[As long as they know they're amazing, though... he takes one tentative hop closer, then another, then returns to the spot where he'd perched before.]

[Rue joins Casey back on the couch, running a talon gently against his back once he returns to their wing, quiet for a moment while they settle together again with their son.]

It is one of the many things I admire about you.

Edited 2024-02-13 00:46 (UTC)

[His response is a series of meaningless chirps, a part of the song he'd sung to them in the garden when they'd first crossed paths, and he bunts his head affectionately against their talon. Start over?]

[That is one thing Casey never has to worry about. Rue said it before and they meant every word - they'll always forgive him, no matter what.

A returning trill of a song as Rue - very delicately - dips down to bump their head to his. They would much rather attack him with kisses, but later maybe, when he's more appropriately sized.]

Shall we find your bird?

[Okay head-bumps are less daunting than beak kisses like this. He can probably get used to that. He hops a bit in place and bounces back to Rue's paw.]

Mm, okay. Let's keep looking.

[With Casey in place at their paw, Rue is just going to be extra careful moving around so they don't jostle him too much as they pick the book back up again.

Thank goodness for all of the pictures, because after some flipping around, Rue points down at one kind in particular.]

Look at this one! The same blue head and red breast, with that green along the back. Perhaps this is you?

[He peers at the picture, tilting his head this way and that. The colours do look very beautiful and bright, but since he can only see so much of himself, it'll have to be Rue that decides.

He hops onto the book, adjusting his posture and posing as close to the bird on the page as possible, standing right next to it.]

How do I look? Are we the same?

[How adorable. Rue tips their head this way and that, as if they are doing anything but admiring their darling son, before they give a firm nod.]

I think that is the one! It's called a painted bunting.

[Casey moves aside again to look at the page properly.]

"Painted bunting"... the painted I get, but what's a bunting? Am I a headbutting bird?

[Playfully he bonks his head against their feathery paw a few times. Hmm, nope, that's probably a quick way to a headache if he was hitting anything harder than feathers.]

[There's just no world in which Rue doesn't laugh softly at that headbutt, before they are running their talon along his back again, smoothing out Casey's feathers.]

You know, I haven't a clue. It says here that their name in French means 'without equal'. Bunting, however, is a mystery to me.

['Without equal', good grief. Casey chirps out a laugh.]

That's just asking for me to get an ego... oh well, I guess some things just have names with no explanation.

[Or the science of etymology is lost on him.]

Well, I can hardly blame them! Look at you!

[Rue's helping!]

I'll have to search through the various bird documentaries I have saved on my relic. There must be some mention of buntings somewhere within at least one. Oh! And we should research to see if they are a native species of Folkmore. We could speak with them!

[He preens again. Yes, yes, look at him. He is fantastic.]

Oh, that would be cool if there were any. I've never seen a pangolin in the wild [and obviously not an owlbear] but birds are way more common.

Exactly! And now that we know what they are called, we can ask around with the natives if they know of any location we can find them. And even if we do not, it might be fun simply to bird watch and speak with them in general. Most birds I've met are quite funny.

How are they funny?

[He tilts his head curiously, bouncing his way along their wing now that they've found the species.]

[You are playing a dangerous game, Casey, because as he comes bouncing closer, Rue just wants to smooch this sweet bird silly. Instead, they settle for an affectionate head bump and nuzzle. Gently, of course.]

Casey, my love. Have I never told you before? I knew the inventor of birds.

[Oh noooo smooches, how terrible. He handles the bump and nuzzle better than the first time! It nets a cheery peep from him, instinctively.]

Inventor... of birds? That's a thing?

[It is not quite the full body cuddle they have with human Casey or the preening trills of his owlbear form, but even this small, Rue will treasure every darling nuzzle they get. Even if it's just a bump of a tiny, feathery head.]

It was certainly a self-given title, but he was indeed the originator of birds. All birds - at least those from the world I resided in - descended from him.

[Sometimes little snuggles are also peak. Casey could probably straight up disappear in the thickest parts of their feathers, with how little he is.]

If they descended from him wouldn't he be more of a grandpa? Like a great-great-great- uh, Gram-Gram. [A beat, then,] Gramp-Gramp.

[Gramp-gramp? Oh no, that's too darling.]

The great Gramp-Gramp of birds instead? Hm, I'll have to talk to him about it, but it is quite fitting, isn't it? To think, he would have millions upon millions of children and grandchildren.

That's even more kids than you have.

[His tone is so very cheeky.]

[OH MY GOD CASEY JONES]

I can not believe the sass on you! [Time for a little Mother Dramatics.] I have devoted my life to giving you children the very best life possible and this is the thanks I get! Sass!

[He's giggling, oh he's giggling.Just a series of little peep-peeps as he bounces from claw to claw.]

Kids are supposed to misbehave! How else do we learn that moms can yell?

[Even if Rue was ever capable of truly being mad at Casey, those darling giggling peep-peeps would be the immediate end of it! Look at their son!!!!!! He's so precious!]

Is it terrible that I enjoy it? I have told Hunter nothing would make me happier than to have you boys throw your stuff around on the floor and make a mess. I will even fake exasperation!

That's so weird to me. Is that why our apartment's getting messier? You're a bad influence!

[He's still teasing, though.]

He even wants me to yell at him for it! I should remind him that's your job.

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