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159. Feather-plucker

14 years ago

Juni: You know, that word doesn’t bother me so much. I have a tail. It has a spade. “Kayo” has a weird phoneme. I don’t get–

Autistic Corentin [stumbling out of bedroom]: Honnk?

Juni: Oh, hello there!

Juni: Hee, you’re affectionate today!

Autistic Corentin [wrapping around Juni]: Honk! Honk! honkhonkhonk honk honk.

Juni: Aw. You know, your bother shouldn’t pluck your feathers so much. You might get an infection.

Speaking Corentin [wings covering his face]: What?! How… how did you know about that?! I only do it in private!

Juni: Hm? I think I’ve seen you do it once.

Speaking Corentin: Goodness, am I slipping? It’s such a force of habit. I just can’t control him sometimes.

Autistic Corentin [head on Juni’s lap]: Honk!

Juni: Anyway, his head is plucked. It seems obvious that he isn’t doing it to himself.

Speaking Corentin: You understand, right? He’s so hard to deal with… gives me such an eye-ache.

Juni: Well, it’s not his fault. Why make him hurt? It doesn’t help in any way.

Speaking Corentin: He’s my simping brother and he’s a pain in the neck.

Autistic Corentin [contented]: Hrrr


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