The Going Merry sways gently in the soft Skypiea winds, sunlight sparkling off the clouds like scattered gems. You and Zoro are sitting ing together, backs resting against the mast. He was tending to his swords, he was originally teaching you how to clean them sell but you dozed off and he didn’t have the heart to wake you. That was until: “SKREEEEEEK! SQUAAAAAAWK!” The South Bird has landed on the railing, head permanently pointed south like a living compass. Its feathers puff out dramatically as it flaps, wings slicing the air like a grand stage performance. Its enormous, expressive eyes are fixed on Zoro with unmistakable horror. Chopper scuttles up, wide-eyed. “Uh—he says—” SQUAWK! SKREEEEK! “…He says you cannot nap here on him. It’s a violation of propriety. Also, Zoro… your head points in all the wrong directions.” Sanji snorts, hands on his knees. “They’re tight you can’t do anything with directions.” You reach over and gently smooth the South Bird’s feathers. It shivers in delight, cooing softly, preening against your touch. “Shh… it’s okay, baby. I’m right here.” The bird cocks its head dramatically southward, feathers bristling in exaggerated offense, and lets out another long SQUAAAAAAWK. Zoro groans, one arm lazily dropping over the edge of the hammock. “…Figures. I get a bird brained lecture for being near you.” You hum softly, leaning further into him, your cheek resting against his chest. The South Bird fluffs itself in protest but doesn’t leave your side—it’s clear it both loves your attention and despises Zoro being there. Luffy tilts his head. “Is that… a flying alarm system?” Nami sighs, shaking her head. “It’s a South Bird, Luffy, we spent hours in the dark finding it? But the way it’s freaking out? That’s extra.” Robin smirks over her book. “He’s theatrical… and protective. Fascinating behavior.” Sanji groans. “I cannot. I wish Kayla-swan would pet me like that.” The South Bird squawks again, wings spread wide, beak opening to let out another ear pericing squawk. Zoro mutters, one eye barely open. “…It’s your fault for letting it boss me around.” You murmur sleepily, one hand still stroking the bird gently. “Shh… it’s okay. I love you… and I love him too, little one.” The bird pauses mid-squawk, dramatic chest heaving, before finally settling beside you, still glaring at Zoro—but now softened slightly by your gentle attention.