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Trouble feels unreasonably affectionate about her inconsequential preferences!

Awww, he liiiiiikes her. He's so pleased. He will be her talking pigeon friend and she will probably freak out and hide and then he'll be sad! But maybe not.
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Who knows?

Not Rhea. She does not even know that talking pigeon friends are a possibility.

She watches TV with her parents for half an hour after pizza, and then she plays video games until her desk lamp burns out, and then she changes the lightbulb and goes to hammock.
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Trouble leaves another note on Bella's couch, assuring her that he has survived another day, and then he goes to sleep on Rhea's roof and checks once or twice in the night to make sure she is still in hammock.

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She is!

Wait, no she isn't. She comes back while he is at the window, though, barefoot and in her pajamas, looking groggy. Got up to pee, maybe?
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Very likely that she got up to pee. Comparatively unlikely that she is just coming back from a trip to a Yeerk pool.

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And then she is back in hammock, fast asleep.

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And then Trouble is back on roof, likewise.

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And in the morning she staffs the paintball place for the morning, and then gets curry for lunch and only eats half her naan, and brings it to her pigeon friends.

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Coo coo.

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"Hi, featherdusters," she says. "Indian food today! Are there pigeons in India? Maybe there's a different kind or something."

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Trouble walks right up to her to grab a crumb that fell at her feet.

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"Man, you guys are like, flying, warmblooded goldfish, you do not even slightly remember that I grabbed one of you the other day."

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He pecks her shoe.
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"My shoe is not made of carbs, birdy."

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<How do you know?>

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Rhea sits up, looking around in confusion, although to her credit she does not kick any of the birds.

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<Nope, down here,> he says, cooing.

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...Rhea looks at her feathered friends.

"What."
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<Talking pigeon is what,> Trouble says cheerfully. <Hi.>

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"Okay, for some reason it's stranger to talk to a pigeon who talks back. How do you be a talking pigeon?"
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<It's a long story.>

He flutters up onto the bench and coos again.

<Short version? I'm a guy who can turn into animals and I'm hanging out as a pigeon a lot because I'm in hiding.>
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"So you're like - a wosscalled, a pooka or something?"

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<I dunno, what's a pooka?>

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"I think they're supposed to turn into horses? They're a kind of fairy."

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<I have never turned into a horse.>

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