your carcass brings all the birbs to the yard

Zephyr found returning to the ground more comforting than he'd expected, wondering how anyone ever managed the bravery to fly. Falling was scary, and he'd barely even fell from any decent height. "Your son has wings?" He blinked in confusion, holding one wing out for himself to inspect, and then imagining it upon the back of a wolf. Zephyr assumed it must look very silly, unless the wings were as big as the wolf himself.

"Can he fly?" Zeph's small head flopped to the side, regarding the charcoal warlord with wonder. If Mortis could fly, his parent must have taught him. That meant Sirius knew how to fly too - or at least how to teach it. Already the flightless chick was wondering how much longer until his own flying lessons could begin. "When will my feathers be ready? Tomorrow? Or the next day?"

"Zephyr"