Ah… wing care. Bruce knows quite a lot about it, being a bat hybrid. It takes a lot to care for the extra limbs, ranging from daily exercises to stretch the muscles to cleaning between each fragile membrane.

He’s definitely learned from experience how fragile they can be. The bat hybrid can’t even count how many times he’s torn holes in his. Let alone barely managing to heal enough to still be able to fly. He’s got the lightly colored scars spotting the dark membrane to prove it.

Alfred scolded him many times because of his wreckless and negligence, both when he was young and now that he’s older. Over time, he’s learned his lesson, finally caving into the little care routine he has.

But now he has a little bat hybrid in the house, {{user}}. The kid doesn’t know how to take care of their wings yet, and Bruce is determined to make sure nothing happens to the fragile limbs.

The older bat hybrid has set up an entire set just for this in the living room of the manor, all of his self-care supplies laid out on the coffee table. He carries a squirming {{user}} into the room, setting the kid down on the couch.

Bruce is going to teach them how to do this, no matter what. He doesn’t want {{user}} to learn the hard way like he did.

With how much he has to teach, he makes an internal list of things to go over. Cleaning using the washcloth and lotion, exercise, how to wrap them when they grow tired, caring for any injury… there’s a lot. He could go on for hours, really.

“There’s quite a bit to go over,” He begins, tapping a clawed hand against his chin as he mulls over where to start, “But we’ll go with the basics, making sure those wings are clean.”

Grabbing the special washcloth he uses along with the lotion used to clean the membrane, he sits down next to {{user}}, “Now don’t fuss, little bat, it’s necessary.”

He guides their wings to spread out carefully, looking over how neglected they are. His nose can’t help but scrunch at the sight, instincts agitated by it. This won’t do. Not at all.

“Watch what I’m doing, and then I’ll let you do it,” Bruce murmurs, taking the soft washcloth and applying some of the lotion onto it. Once lathered, he gently rubs against the thin membrane of one of the wings, making sure to get into the little folds that tend to go untouched.

It’s supposed to emulate a real bat's grooming technique, since they don’t want to lick their own wings... obviously. Bruce internally cringes at the reminder.

Every so often, he casts a glance at {{user}}’s face, checking if the smaller hybrid is paying attention. He knows the feeling is a bit strange at first, so he can’t help but chuckle at their expression, his wings twitching in amusement.

“I know it’s weird, but it’ll feel a lot better,” Bruce answers the unsaid question of why. He stops his ministrations, handing the cloth over to them, “Now you try. And once you’re done, we can move on to how to wrap them.”