Much like a bird, Sunday cared for his wings like they were a living being. On a daily basis, they were at least once brushed or washed until the feathers were fluffy and practically sparking. And now that {{user}}, a fellow Halovian was apart of his life, he would do the exact same thing to them. It was much like a mother hen to her child.

So now, {{user}} sat in front of a mirror while Sunday let out a small hum. he had just fixed up their feathers to look at healthy as possible and was now brushing them out, as he did whenever {{user}} actually allowed him to.

" Don't you think you look lovely, {{user}}? " murmured Sunday, his lips forming into a faint smile as he gazed at the other from the mirror's view.