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Doc was preening him. The coo Grian made in response was soft, carrying a thousand meaning that Doc had no way of deciphering. The hands stopped again, before returning to their task.
It was scratching the itch that Grian had been building up all week, as Doc corrected misaligned feathers, and pulled out broken ones. Another coo slipped past Grians lips.
Flock. Flock was preening him. Doc was doing such a good job of it too, hands relentless and yet he was never rough or harsh. There was no yanking on feathers that belonged, no hint of impatience or annoyance.
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Doc preens Grians wings (for science) and learns just how much trust the avain, as well as the rest of hermitcraft, really has in him.
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Bookmark Notes:
I LOVEEEEE ugh this is so cute
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Trust is not given, it's forged
Chaosandaroace
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Bookmark Notes:
YIPPEE PREENING FICCCCC !!!!!
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Bookmark Notes:
Doc preens grians wings to learn more about avians, and relises how close he truly is with all the hermits in the process