Trouble snuggles up to Robin and emits a credible coo.

"Does the pigeon brain have lingering effects or are you just being a goofball?"

"Goofball," he says, laughing.

Write, write.

Robin coos back, then giggles.

"...Well, maybe it depends what you mean by lingering effects," says Trouble.

"Hmm?"

"You said, was it lingering effects or was I being a goofball," says Trouble. "I think it's more like: I was being a goofball by acting like a pigeon, but since I just was one, I'm a little better at it than most people who aren't pigeons."

"Not much of that here," says Robin. "I can't even coo right."

"I'm not sure I understand the distinction you're drawing."

"How about this: The lingering effect of the pigeon brain is that now I remember what it's like to be a pigeon and I can act like one if I feel like it."

"Interesting. Robin, Ethan, anything like that at all?"

"Like I said, no," says Robin.

"I don't know," says Ethan, "I don't have any particular interest in pretending to be a pigeon to find out."

"Discovering anything interesting? Like why you don't get high on pigeon?"

"I have speculations about that, nothing concrete. It's possible I can just automatically recognize pigeony thoughts as not-mine and reject them when they aren't immediately useful to whatever I'm trying to do, since I'm so familiar with my own mind."

"That sounds weird and boring," says Trouble. "I'm glad I don't do that."

"I'm just as glad I don't start twittering about how nice it is to be home upon turning into a bird. To each their own."

"It was nice, though," sighs Andi.

"It was awesome," says Trouble. He coos at Robin again.

"I wonder if it's nice to be everything, though, I think Bella's right to worry about what if we have to be something that isn't happy."

Trouble just laughs.

Robin snorts and hugs him.

"How is that funny?"