Fawkes is a heavy bird, but caught off-balance, unprepared -- he lets out a hoarse, undignified, and most unmelodic squawk before going down like a lead balloon.
He's enough presence of mind not to want to hurt the cat, but those heavy wings buffet out anyway, trying to (gently!) beat the horrible thing back. Why does anyone even domesticate these??? Thanks for nothing, Egypt.
Wow, Fawkes, shut your mouth about Egypt. Where would you be without cats?
All right, not on the floor, with a cat attempting ineffectually to break your neck with its hind feet. But still.
The problem with Mewby's plan to murder Fawkes in cold blood is that if you've got a bird by its tail, kicking it doesn't actually do much. Especially not when the bird is smarter than you. Especially not when your owner swoops in without thought for bites or scratches and pulls you off.
The cat meows and meows as Evy carries him over to the loo and shuts him in, but she's more concerned for their feathery guest. Muttering things like "Oh, dear" and "Please be all right," she does her best to inspect the bird for injuries.
The real shit luck of being an intensely magical creature with innate, undreamed of healing properties is that once they're gone, you're pretty much fucked. Fawkes is going to be limping on that scratched leg a while, he suspects, and as he preens at a loose tailfeather (there's nothing to be done save to yank it out completely) there's a distinct air of wounded dignity.
He leaves the feathers on the floor, hops back up to the table, and edges towards the sill. Nice meeting you, Evelyn. So nice. Such friend. Wow.
Evy reaches out to touch the bird, perhaps try to figure out just how injured it is--then hesitates and stops, because really, if it's limping away, then she really ought to let it.
"I'm sorry," she tells it, however silly it is to apologize to a bird. "He didn't mean to hurt you, really."
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He's enough presence of mind not to want to hurt the cat, but those heavy wings buffet out anyway, trying to (gently!) beat the horrible thing back. Why does anyone even domesticate these??? Thanks for nothing, Egypt.
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All right, not on the floor, with a cat attempting ineffectually to break your neck with its hind feet. But still.
The problem with Mewby's plan to murder Fawkes in cold blood is that if you've got a bird by its tail, kicking it doesn't actually do much. Especially not when the bird is smarter than you. Especially not when your owner swoops in without thought for bites or scratches and pulls you off.
The cat meows and meows as Evy carries him over to the loo and shuts him in, but she's more concerned for their feathery guest. Muttering things like "Oh, dear" and "Please be all right," she does her best to inspect the bird for injuries.
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He leaves the feathers on the floor, hops back up to the table, and edges towards the sill. Nice meeting you, Evelyn. So nice. Such friend. Wow.
Albus clearly needs better taste.
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"I'm sorry," she tells it, however silly it is to apologize to a bird. "He didn't mean to hurt you, really."
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And then gets the fuck out of dodge.