#the braids have lore in my head might elaborate later

[bluejackals]

odyssey cuddle pt1

very short, set sometime between the undivorce and parrot becoming leader. there will be a part 2

Sunlight slips a bright wedge into the gap between blackout curtains and the windowsill, tumbling forward across the blankets. 

Wifies sticks a hand into the expanse of warmth and watches tiny dust particles drift down onto him. The movement is small, the sound of skin on blanket nearly inaudible. But nearly inaudible isn’t the same as silent, and so the living, breathing mass of feathers and muscle next to him stirs and two golden eyes open to stare at him.

“Morning,” Parrot says, without a trace of drowsiness. 

“Morning,” Wifies says back, rolling onto his side to face Parrot. “I didn’t wake you up.”

“No,” Parrot murmurs. “I’ve been up for around twenty minutes.” 

“Why not get out of bed? Not that I mind that you didn’t.” 

“Didn’t need to. I don’t have to be at the warriors’ until a bit later.” Parrot stretches a wing out, disturbing their comfortable fortress of blankets. Wifies just holds the blankets until he’s done and has tucked his wing back into place. It twitches, pushing Wifies closer to Parrot. A silent, routine apology for letting some of the heat trapped in the blankets escape, Wifies supposes, since Parrot knows he runs cold. 

“Wonder what they’d think,” Wifies says, half-teasing. “A warrior having sleepovers with a farmer.”

“Shut up,” Parrot groans. “I was both on the test. It’s fine.”

“So it wouldn’t be fine if you weren’t both?” Maybe Ken has been rubbing off on Wifies more than he thought. One of Parrot’s talons smacks him in the shin. 

“It would still be fine,” Parrot says. “They can’t stop me.” 

“They could kick you out,” suggests Wifies. 

“Nah, they need me.” 

Parrot’s smile is lazy, butter-yellow-confident just like the sunshine, and Wifies gives up on holding a straight face. He snorts. 

Parrot lets out an amused huff, reaching out a hand to tussle with Wifies’s already terrible bed head. Wifies feels his tail wag at that, even as he takes a halfhearted swipe at Parrot’s hand. “They really do,” Parrot says. “They need something new. But not at this exact moment.”

Wifies must make a strange expression, because Parrot blinks and his hand pauses in its motions. “You look confused.”

Confused? Interesting. Wifies touches his own face. Parrot chuckles at that, but a tiny furrow forms between his eyes. 

“What’s up?” He asks. 

A lot is up, actually. Parrot’s braids stayed done overnight, neatly preserved with diamond clasps. Before the Farlands, they’d always been undone when he lay sleeping next to Wifies. Their neatness now is a clear reminder of Wifies’s mistake. Parrot might look at him with that butter-yellow smile, might ask for Wifies’s help, but he’s not forgetful. Wifies can’t afford to be either. Ken always tells him he doesn’t want for much, and if she’s right about that, then this—Parrot’s walls coming down, as much as they can—is one of Wifies’s few wants. He craves the closeness that he was spoiled with before. 

Yet with that craving comes stinging guilt, because he already has so much and he still wants more, because he’s been given a purpose again, a place by Parrot’s side and it isn’t enough, even though he doesn’t even deserve this much. 

The whirlwind of thoughts builds in Wifies’s head, cutting through the slowness of the morning. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t want that smile to leave Parrot’s face, doesn’t want to ruin his morning. Wifies’s mistakes shouldn’t weigh him down. 

So he pulls his facial muscles into a smile to reflect Parrot’s and clasps Parrot’s wrist. “Nothing urgent. It can wait, I promise.”

“Okay,” Parrot says. “If you say so.”