Come out.

Play with him? Othello was confused, her ivory head tilting to the side as she studied her brother. What did he mean by play? "He beat me and didn't feed me. I starved for nearly three years as he beat my tired body. He thought if I was hit enough that my sickness would come pouring out." She answered, unsure of what he was really meaning to get across. He asked to play with him... was he lonely? But she was here now...

Othello sat down upon her rump, her long feathery tail curling around her paws. "What have you been up to when I havebeen away?" Maybe if she redirected the conversation to him, it would go on at a more normal rate. His hissing words still caught her off guard, but she was dealing with it and growing used to it. She was mostly just pleased that she had part of her family back.