The right thing (South Park Fanfic.)

Cold

"Morning," Kenny says.

I roll my eyes, staring at him.

"Morning," i say back.

"How's it going?" He asks.

"Pretty good, at least I think so. Taking in the situation, life is okay," I say.

"It's getting cold outside. Thought you'd like to know," he says.

"Yeah. I can feel it. My feet always went numb in the cold," I say.

"Well I'm glad you have wings then," he says.

"Yeah. Plus. You have shoes. Try to take em off. Or just touch the floor," I say.

He puts his hand against the floor.

"No wonder all of you are staying in cages," he says.

"I mean. We could fly around like some type of fucking idiots but if somebody thought we were trying to escape, bam, no wings anymore," I say.

"Why are wings so important to you? I mean. You go for a human if you keep them hidden. Why not cut them off or something?" Kenny asks.

"Our wings have highly sensitive nerves in them," I say.

"So they feel pain?" He asks.

"Far worse. If these things get cut off, we'll die. If we don't, the pain is so terrible people would rather kill themselves over living with the pain," I say.

"What the fuck?" He asks.

"But it's also nice when people touch them," I say.

I let them out, smiling at him.

"I mean... can I?" He asks.

"If your hands aren't cold, sure," I say.

He takes my wing, gently, trying not to hurt me.

"You can a bit more strength on that," I say.

He takes the wing a little tighter, moving his hand across it.

"You know... I'd never let anyone else do that," I say.

"What about your friends?" He asks.

"It's not a thing friends do, it's just more about showing someone important that you care or that you trust them," I say.

He quickly gets his hand off. I look at him with a kind of guilty face.

"I... thank you?" He asks.

"Don't you have something like that?" I ask.

"Not exactly. It's more about telling someone," Kenny says.

"But don't actions speak louder than some fucked up words?" I ask.

"But if wings are so important, why is it something to show that you trust someone? What if someone just rips them away? Either by accident or not," Kenny says.

"Hasn't happened to me yet. As you might see," I say.

"How many times have you done this then? Let someone touch your wings?" He asks.

"Seven or eight times during these 19 years," I say.

"So. What kind of this is it? Do you let your parents immediately touch them?" He asks.

"Oh fuck no! That'd be so traumatising! No. Parents never touch our wings unless it's an emergency," I say.

"What type of people can touch them then?" He asks.