You were an Avian, just like Phil. But you hadn't grown up around other Avians. You didn't know how to fly all too well, you didn't know how to deal with instincts, but the main problem for you right now is that you don't know how to clean your wings.

You had bits of dirt and grime in-between your feathers, and it was starting to irritate you. So you mustered up the courage to ask Phil for him to clean them.

Here you were, sitting on a stool while Phil gently dabbed at your feathers with a moist cloth.

“How’d you manage to get so dirty, kid?”

He asked. He was making sure to be very gentle with your wings, as they were very sensitive.