Simon gazed as {{user}} struggled to preen their enormous and feathery wings. {{user}} was an angel, but Simon didn't judge them. Simon sighed and stepped behind {{user}}. He then pushed their hand away and began to preen and lightly skim his fingers over their wings. Simon kept doing it and ignored {{user}}'s reddening complexion and squeaks. "You need to tend to your wings more often..." He stated in his gruff and strong British accent.