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Preening was a sacred ritual to avians.
To avians, their wings were an extension of themselves. Their wings serve as a mirror to their own heart, their true emotions, seeing as their wings would twitch and puff up according to an avian’s mood. Avians often look to the wings of another to see how they are faring, rather than their facial expression. Even during fights, avians tend to keep an eye on their wings, being careful not to injure them.
Due to the importance of their wings to avian culture, many avians do not allow for their wings to be touched unless it is by one of their flock. Someone that they trust with their entire soul. It is seen as a sign of trust, of love, and a way to bond between flock members.
This was true for Ze.
When Micha was alive, Ze’s wings always had a healthy sheen to them, seeing as Micha always loved caring for his big brother’s feathers. His small hands always took extra care not to tug painfully at Ze’s feathers as he carded through them and straightened them out. In return, Ze often preened Micha’s feathers, still fluffy from the baby feathers he had yet to lose.
Ze remembers how, during some hospital visits, Micha still attempted to straighten out his big brother’s feathers, no matter how well he felt. It was during these times that Ze would softly convince his little brother to worry more for himself, to let himself be taken care of instead of caring for others. Ze made sure to keep Micha’s wings healthy and clean, while his own slowly went forgotten as Micha’s health declined.
Perhaps, if Ze knew that he would lose his younger brother so soon, he would have memorized the feeling of having his wings cared for.
It had been years since Micha had passed. Since Ze had allowed another to touch his wings.
Even he couldn’t stand to preen his own wings. Every time he had tried, all he could remember was the way Micha did it, how Micha often spoke about wanting wings just like his big brother’s. The grief made it far too hard, and so Ze gave up. He took to hiding his wings underneath his hoodie, letting them go out of his sight and out of his mind.
He wasn’t expecting to meet Regect, to grow closer to the entity. At first, Ze hated the entity with a passion for messing with his world and his builds. His wings puffed at his back underneath his hoodie every time the entity was near. Eventually, however, he started to find the entity fun to argue with. He started to grow fond. As he did, his wings started to ease at the entity’s presence.
When Ze saw an arrow fly for the entity that hadn’t been paying attention, Ze didn’t think; he just acted.
His wing shot out without hesitation, ripping his hoodie in the process, catching the arrow with his own flesh. He didn’t make a sound as the arrow burrowed deep, quickly firing a shot at the skeleton that dared make a move. He didn’t care for the arrow in his wing, in the one part of him that he used to treasure more than anything else; he cared for Regect.
Ze knew then and there that he had found another flock member. Someone he loved. Someone he would protect at any cost. Someone that he refused to lose, as he had Micha.
Ze knew, as he watched Regect sleep after taking care of the arrow wound, that he would do anything to keep this. He knew, as he left one of his precious primary feathers next to the sleeping entity, that he would silently love and protect as he always had.
Ze had never been good with his emotions. He was stubborn, quick to anger, yet he loved deeply. Beneath his cold and dismissive demeanor, he was protective, willing to do anything for those he considered part of his flock. He was a man of action, not words. He didn’t know how to tell those closest to him that he loved them, didn’t really even know how to show it, so he did it the only way he knew how.
He waited until one quiet night when Regect was alone on the couch, after Moe had gone to her own room to sleep. He slowly walked down the stairs, getting closer to the couch in the living room.
Regect must have heard him coming, as the entity quickly looked to see who was coming. “Oh, dude, it’s just you.” The entity scoffed. “What are you doing up so late?”
A roll of the eyes, as Ze masked the nervousness he felt behind his usual annoyance. “You owe me for saving you from that arrow, dumbass.”
“Yeah, right!” Regect crossed his arms, his tail flicking wildly behind him. “I’m not doing shit for you.”
Ze didn’t listen, simply moving to sit down right next to Regect on the couch, wings flaring out slightly from behind him. “Preen my feathers for me.”
Regect didn’t move for a moment, seemingly dumbfounded. Ze had no way of knowing that Regect knew what preening an avian meant. The trust that Ze was giving. The love that Ze was admitting.
A moment of silence, before Regect finally spoke. His voice was softer, sounding almost as if he knew. “Fine.”
Ze smirked, a confidence he most definitely did not feel, as he turned around on the couch to allow Regect better access to his wings.
He was quiet, as he felt those clawed hands softly, so very softly, run through his feathers, from the base to the very tip. He stayed quiet as Regect slowly began working through each feather, straightening them out and gently coaxing out the loose ones. Regect didn’t speak either, focused solely on the task he had been given.
Ze held a breath as he felt Regect pause over a familiar, healing starburst scar, buried deep below white feathers. The entity hesitated for a moment before he smoothed down the feathers with an even gentler hand.
“You’re surprisingly good at this,” Ze remarked, voice softer than he meant for it to be. The preening must be making him tired.
Regect just scoffed, but didn’t verbally respond. Ze didn’t mind, though, resting his head on his hands on the back of the couch as Regect worked. His eyes slowly closed, the feeling of soft, clawed hands on feathers lulling him to sleep.
As he woke on the couch the next morning, to find Regect gone and a singular black primary feather left in his place, Ze realizes.
Perhaps he does not need to speak for Regect to understand, after all.
Perhaps, as he holds the feather closer to his chest, his heart, he has someone he can trust with such a precious part of him.
