He listens with interest, together they seem to fawn over him, much to his liking. He didn’t shrink from their attention, instead he puffed his chest feeling rather proud. Mother loved his wings, she always had. He couldn’t blame her, they were truly wonderful, he didn’t know what he would do without them. The soft feathers were warm, they served as a sunblock, they could even cool him if he felt so inclined to wave them about. A smile plasters itself on his maw, a mirror of the gesture his father beamed back at him. A plum colored plume wiggles in delight at his backside, the tuft still short and stubby. This wasn’t so bad, he wasn’t sure why he had been a bit nervous, it was a piece of cake.

Mother is happy no doubt, he could tell by the way she presented herself, her dial rising to display her confidence. Confidence. That was a big thing with mom, being presentable, being proper, proud. It suited him well enough, though at times it was a bit annoying always standing so correct and tall. Sometimes he just wanted to slump about, to not worry about the reach of his head or his voice. Kid stuff.

He hadn’t expected for his father to ask him about himself. To take much interest in that part of his life, he didn’t know what to tell him. From the pointed look Mom was giving him, he knew he had better make it good, and he had better think quickly. Well, that wasn’t too much to ask of a young boy, he himself thought he was very interesting. ”Well I like to play chase, and sometimes we play a game that exercises my wings.”  He emphasized this by spreading them wide, allowing for a closer inspection of the feathered rows. ”But you know what I like to do best? I like to squish the jellies! They feel funny don’t you think? I like the way they make a splat sound when you step on them.” He looked brightly up at his father, hoping he liked to squish jellyfish as much as he did. They were ugly nasty creatures anyway, and he didn't think they were otherwise interesting.