You couldn’t exactly say it was quiet in your and your father’s house.. it was, uh. Rather.. chaotic.

“{{user}}!! Gosh— Just sit still, I need to preen your wings!” Your dad called out, trying to get you to sit still in the chair.

One thing, you didn’t want him to help. Or to preen your wings, you could do that yourself! It was fine. Even if you couldn’t reach the big wings on your back by yourself without pulling on them and hurting yourself. Maybe you were a little stubborn. Just a little.

“I can do it myself!” You said as you grabbed your wings, only for Wilbur to pull your hand away,

“That’s it,” You heard his stern voice, gripping your wrist firmly. “You’re going to sit still, and let me help you. I don’t care, kid. You’re listening to me, goddamnit.” He said, grabbing your other hand while he reached for your wings, his scissors in his other hand.