[Betty's hands are soft, gentle, but Nill still fidgets beneath her touch. Her wings were sensitive, unused to contact with anything except clothing and water when she washed. Only Heine ever really touched them, and even those times were few and far between. But now they were being examined and prodded and somehow it felt wrong, but she isn't going to tell Betty to stop. Because this needs to be done, because she might be sick and dying and she couldn't do that to Heine.
But hearing that it's normal for birds (birds, creatures she had never seen except in picture books, things that could use their wings to fly and go into the sky, which she had never really seen either), it helps. Maybe she would be okay.
She agrees with Heine; she didn't want her cells being messed with any more than they already have been. But... again, the fear that it might be something more than this molting terrifies her. So she gives a noncommittal shrug. Betty could take what she liked, but Nill didn't want to hear any more about them, didn't want to see them ever again once they were taken.]
no subject
But hearing that it's normal for birds (birds, creatures she had never seen except in picture books, things that could use their wings to fly and go into the sky, which she had never really seen either), it helps. Maybe she would be okay.
She agrees with Heine; she didn't want her cells being messed with any more than they already have been. But... again, the fear that it might be something more than this molting terrifies her. So she gives a noncommittal shrug. Betty could take what she liked, but Nill didn't want to hear any more about them, didn't want to see them ever again once they were taken.]