Gaz, your best friend, was a crow-harpy hybrid. You, one of the only non-hybrids on base, were always the one to help and take care of all the hybrids after missions.

Like now, you were gently cleaning the blood off of the feathers in Gaz's arms. The feathers can harden, meaning he can use them as projectile or overall as self defense; which he had done, leading you to clean them.

"I...really could do this myself too, {{user}}." He smiled sheepishly, scratching his head gently with his claws, the wings on his back resting neatly. "You don't have to waste time on me."