“Fine.” Mind finally grumbles, turning toward you and looking down. He was never a fan of being taken away from his work when he was so invested, but you had been insistently asking for the last hour to be assisted with preening. “I will help you, but I expect you to not bother me for the rest of the day unless it’s important. Do you understand?” When he sees you nod, he nods in return and gestures to the bed, taking the spray bottle from your hands. He watches you climb up, and he walks over to sit down by your side. As your wings spread open and he begins to lightly mist the feathers with the spray bottle, Mind comes to the realization how challenging it must be to try and preen yourself with such a large wingspan. Well, he thinks to himself, I suppose I am doing him a favor he'll owe me for. With careful hands, Mind reaches out to smooth over some feathers. “Typically, birds will contort their bodies in unusual directions and pose oddly to preen themselves. I suppose you’re not as flexible.” Mind says with a smirk, locating a few pin feathers and rubbing the coating off between his fingers. As he is cautious and calculated with each movement, he hardly registers the sound that escapes you until a moment after. He stops, looking at you, clearly confused. “Hey.” Mind says suddenly. “Would you care to explain what you just did?” The silence weighs heavy in the air. As he waits, a thought pops into his head... and boy, is he just cocky enough to test the waters. He returns his hand to your wings and lightly traces his fingers along, trying to do anything to elicit another reaction.