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Dr. Iplier sighed as he entered the kitchen, wings fluttering a little and showing his agitation. He grabbed the pot of coffee left over from that morning and poured it into a mug, not quite caring that it was cold as shit before downing it in one go. He spun on his heel, marching back into the living area and nearly tripping over Eric’s splayed-out wings in the process. “Oh shit – sorry – Hey, have any of you seen the Host? He’s missing. Again.”
King hummed from where he sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed and giving a full-body shudder as Bim combed his fingers through his russet wings. “He’s not outside, I can confirm that. I would’ve seen him coming back home.”
Dr. Iplier breathed another sigh. “Well that’s a relief. But that begs the question of then where?”
“Did you check the library?” Silver fidgeted with the end of one of his own wings, idly plucking out bent feathers.
Dr. Iplier raised an eyebrow. “Yeah I did, but I didn’t see him.”
“I think he made a nest somewhere.” Ed glanced up, wings draped loosely over his armchair. “I saw him earlier. He was actin’ weird, mutterin’ under his breath and with a bunch of blankets in his arms.”
Dr. Iplier started back a bit, blinking in surprise. “Huh, that’s…odd. He’s usually not one to do that. I’ll go check the library again. Maybe I missed him somehow.”
He walked back out of the living area – tripping over Eric’s wings again, whoops – and headed toward the library. He pushed open the creaky door, slipping inside. He closed his eyes, sighing through his nose as the spacious library allowed him the ability to spread his wings a little. “Host? Are you down here?”
He wasn’t exactly expecting a reply, but he was still disappointed, wings drooping slightly, when he received none. Still, he moved deeper into the cavernous basement, weaving between the bookshelves and swearing whenever his wings knocked over a book or two. At last, he stumbled into the center, shaking out his wings with a few blue feathers falling to the ground. He glanced up, brushing himself off, and his breath caught in his throat.
The Host’s desk, usually dead center of the eye of the library, was pushed off to the side. Instead, what took its place was a huge nest, woven together with what looked like every spare piece of fabric the Host could find. The only thing visible of the Host himself was one of his massive wings covering the top, hiding himself from view. Peggy lifted her head when Dr. Iplier approached, curled up on top of the Host’s wing and blinking her big, green eyes owlishly at him. The cat wasn’t much of a kitten anymore, nearly full grown, but still unusually small, small enough that her weight on top of the Host’s thin, atrophied wing wasn’t much of a strain on him.
She made a small, purr-like ‘brrp’ noise as Dr. Iplier inched closer before leaping off, the sound of her three-legged walk fading out. Dr. Iplier winced, shifting closer still, till he could hear the Host’s peeved, wordless grumble coming from beneath his wing, feathers ruffling as he shifted. “Sorry I scared away your cat.” The Host just grumbled some more, whacking Dr. Iplier with his wing.
Dr. Iplier jumped back, wings snapping out to full length as he bristled. “Hey! What is up with you today?” The Host made a strange hissing noise in response, wing flaring a bit. Dr. Iplier risked inching back closer. “Do…do you mind if I join you?”
There was a lengthy pause, the Host suddenly stiff and quiet, before he lifted his wing up, the end of the twelve-foot limb not even close to brushing the ceiling. Dr. Iplier tucked his own wings close to his body before clambering into to the nest, folding himself against the Host’s body before he draped his wing over the nest once more, plunging them into darkness.
Dr. Iplier shifted closer, fisting the Host’s coat in is hands. The Host was curled up much like a cat, into a tight ball, with his other wing now pinned beneath the both of them. “I’m not hurting you, am I,” he murmured, his own wings shuddering. The Host shook his head, burrowing deeper into his very warm nest. From the angle Dr. Iplier was at, he could see the dried blood caked beneath the Host bandages, and he gasped, reaching up a hand. “Host, you – how long have you been here? You can’t – I –”
The Host placed a finger to Dr. Iplier’s lips, frowning and looking significantly annoyed, his wings fluffing. “If Dr. Iplier is going to be here,” he mumbled. “He must be quiet.”
Dr. Iplier pouted, but obediently shut up, making a small noise as he buried his face in the Host’s chest. Almost hesitantly, he wrapped the wing he wasn’t lying on around the Host, pulling himself closer. The Host sighed, noticeably relaxing as he wrapped his arms around Dr. Iplier, uncurling his legs in order to intertwine them with Dr. Iplier’s. “The Host…apologizes,” he muttered. “He has been feeling…off all day. He didn’t mean to be so short.”
Dr. Iplier huffed. “Yeah, I knew something was up the second Ed said you were building a nest. You’re usually not so…appetent. I don’t know, it just didn’t feel right.” He shifted, one hand coming up the brush against the pendant hidden beneath his shirt, one that contained one of the Host’s smaller, whiter feathers. “Do you…wanna talk about it?”
Again, the Host shook his head. “For once, the Host doesn’t have the words. He’d rather just…stay here. For the time being.”
Dr. Iplier hummed. “Maybe it’d help you feel better if you took care of yourself and let me change your bandages.”
He laughed quietly when the Host crinkled his nose. “The Host would like to restate his desire for Dr. Iplier to remain quiet.”
He laughed again, wings and shoulders shaking. “Yeah, whatever. I love you, you dork.”
The Host huffed. “The Host loves Dr. Iplier, too. Now hush.”