Ink Stains (MCYT Oneshots)

[R] Preening (Phil-centric)

(A/N: request as a pic. i... don't know how this would work but just imagine it's magic :3)

"Chat, just wait," Phil complained lightly as he made long, quick strides towards his house. Around him, his crow chat was flying and cawing, some about random things, but most seemed to repeat the same phrase over and over again, like Phil hadn't heard them the first three times, "Preen now!"

It had been a long time since he'd found it safe enough to preen. Recently, it seemed like so much was happening, and while Phil did his best to stay out of whatever was happening in the main areas of the SMP, he still worried for some of its inhabitants, along with trying to find a way to revive Wilbur.

Because of all that, it meant that he didn't have much time to preen his wings. In fact, he hadn't preened them in over two weeks, when usually, he liked to preen them once every week to keep them relatively well functioning and healthy, despite still not being able to fly — a fact that had once stung, but it was a fact that he had gotten used to after a few months.

As they neared his house, his crows started to converge around him while not blocking his eyesight. Upon reaching his house, Phil dived down the tunnel to his underground base, with his crows following behind.

He could hear some of the newer crows' annoyed caws at having to get wet, and snickered. It was always fun to get new members of his chat.

"Alright, we're here," Phil sighed, collapsing onto the floor when he had landed, spreading his wings out. They still hurt, even after all this while, but luckily, he had his chat to help him out with that. "You'll probably have some extra work to do, sorry about that."

He felt a few crows land on his shoulder, as well as loud noises of flapping. Then, he sighed and leaned the slightest bit forwards as they started preening his feathers.

"Yes, yes, I know," Phil sighed at his chat's worried and angered caws as they preened him. "I know, you don't have to keep telling me off now. There wasn't any time for it, anyways."

You'd think crows wouldn't be able to preen very well, since their claws were sharp, and they were, well, birds. But all the members of Phil's chat were more special than other crows, and Phil felt himself relaxing under their surprisingly soft preening.

All the stresses of his day seemed to melt away like the pain in his wings, and Phil was perfectly happy and willing to let his crows tell him to move however would be most comfortable for them. In the meantime, since he couldn't really move around, he settled for talking with some of the younger crows in his chat.

Mostly, in preening times like this, he'd give advice to the crows who sought him out to ask for some, and ramble about his projects, as if he hadn't already rambled about them several times in the past. But his chat was constantly changing, and just because a crow was here today didn't mean it would be here tomorrow.

Eventually, he felt like his wings were preened enough, and he laughed at his crows' despairing caws and attempts at getting him to stay still and let them continue to preen him.

"Aw, I'm sorry, but I'm a little busy now," Phil said lightly, shaking his wings out to deter the crows from continuing their preening. Some particularly confident ones still tried, anyway, but luckily, some of his 'mods' — crows who were bigger than the other crows, and who had a marking of a red heart on their heads — were around to wrangle the particularly persistent ones away, giving him his much needed space.

His chat cawed their distress and annoyance. Phil snickered.

"Maybe at another time, alright?" Phil smiled, standing up to stretch his muscles. "Now, tell me what has been happening around?"

Phil busied himself around as his chat started saying a myriad of things. While they were annoying at times, he would never regret having them around.