*
*
*
Bare feet pattered softly on the cold floors of the Sanctuary, resonating in the quiet of the hallway. The further she walked, Kiva could hear the soft chirping and fluttering of wings, the life of birds restless in their cages. Adorned in an old worker's apron and some gloves she collected from the closet, the tall Myrian stopped in front of a door, pushing it open tentatively. As the wood began to swing open, the sounds of the birds paused and a strange quiet settled into the room. The silence was thick, and Kiva was cautious to make her way inside.
The room would allow for ample sunlight inside, with a number of cages - some covered with large cloths - and a long table with a number of supplies. In the corner was a water pump and what looked like some rags. It was a simple, but relatively clean room. Feathers and seed sprinkled the floor, and a light odor hung in the air.
'That will have to be cleaned', Kiva noted, walking to the table and setting down the bucket in her hands. She took a deep breath, assessing the location. She took it in for a few more minutes, noting where everything was and immediately started to work.
She began first by heading to grab an old broom leaning against the wall and taking it in both hands. It was a sturdy weight, thick with stiff straw. As she moved around, bird feed stuck to the soft flesh of her feet, a not so comforting feeling. She moved to the first cage and slowly pulled off the fabric that covered it.
Tiny eyes peered back at her, a number of small budgies huddled together on a wooden platform and watching her shyly. "Good morning," Kiva said softly in Myrian, watching them for a second. None of them made a sound, but the watched her carefully, and the woman cocked her head, "Are you shy?"
It was interesting thought. Did birds have their own personalities? Like cats or the tskanna of Falyndar? Kiva ran a finger down one of metal bars, dusting some more food that had fallen. They were messy little things. Finally, after a few ticks, Kiva gave a brief smile that faded quickly, "Do I scare you, little birds?"
The tall Myrian pulled back, straightening up and began to remove the rest of the covers, greeting each bird or group with a small greeting. Many of the smaller varieties were shy, the others... the more exotic were vocal, demanding for food. One parrot in particular was feeling rather sassy, biting at the bars and jumping around.
'You feel trapped?'
Kiva turned her back, ignoring the sounds and set to sweeping the room. it was a slow process and it seemed just as she cleared a spot in the room, one of the birds felt it necessary to flutter around and scatter more. An endless chore. At first it didn't bother her, she just would continue sweeping. But after the fourth time, she began to grip the handle harder. Was she to clean the cages first and then the floors?
*
*
Bare feet pattered softly on the cold floors of the Sanctuary, resonating in the quiet of the hallway. The further she walked, Kiva could hear the soft chirping and fluttering of wings, the life of birds restless in their cages. Adorned in an old worker's apron and some gloves she collected from the closet, the tall Myrian stopped in front of a door, pushing it open tentatively. As the wood began to swing open, the sounds of the birds paused and a strange quiet settled into the room. The silence was thick, and Kiva was cautious to make her way inside.
The room would allow for ample sunlight inside, with a number of cages - some covered with large cloths - and a long table with a number of supplies. In the corner was a water pump and what looked like some rags. It was a simple, but relatively clean room. Feathers and seed sprinkled the floor, and a light odor hung in the air.
'That will have to be cleaned', Kiva noted, walking to the table and setting down the bucket in her hands. She took a deep breath, assessing the location. She took it in for a few more minutes, noting where everything was and immediately started to work.
She began first by heading to grab an old broom leaning against the wall and taking it in both hands. It was a sturdy weight, thick with stiff straw. As she moved around, bird feed stuck to the soft flesh of her feet, a not so comforting feeling. She moved to the first cage and slowly pulled off the fabric that covered it.
Tiny eyes peered back at her, a number of small budgies huddled together on a wooden platform and watching her shyly. "Good morning," Kiva said softly in Myrian, watching them for a second. None of them made a sound, but the watched her carefully, and the woman cocked her head, "Are you shy?"
It was interesting thought. Did birds have their own personalities? Like cats or the tskanna of Falyndar? Kiva ran a finger down one of metal bars, dusting some more food that had fallen. They were messy little things. Finally, after a few ticks, Kiva gave a brief smile that faded quickly, "Do I scare you, little birds?"
The tall Myrian pulled back, straightening up and began to remove the rest of the covers, greeting each bird or group with a small greeting. Many of the smaller varieties were shy, the others... the more exotic were vocal, demanding for food. One parrot in particular was feeling rather sassy, biting at the bars and jumping around.
'You feel trapped?'
Kiva turned her back, ignoring the sounds and set to sweeping the room. it was a slow process and it seemed just as she cleared a spot in the room, one of the birds felt it necessary to flutter around and scatter more. An endless chore. At first it didn't bother her, she just would continue sweeping. But after the fourth time, she began to grip the handle harder. Was she to clean the cages first and then the floors?
