Trouble has soft pettable feathers. And he coos a lot. <Aww, snuggly,> he says happily.
"Yeah, but I'm not a pigeon. I'm completely not thinking of any good talking pigeon names, by the way."
<I can get bread lots of places, but only one of them comes with such adorable chattering.>
"Oh my god, a person has been listening to me talk about random crap, that's actually kind of embarrassing."
"You are a very flattering talking pigeon. I bet you get all the talking pigeon girls."
<I'm an extremely bisexual talking pigeon, is what I'm trying to get at here,> he snorts.
"A bisexual talking pigeon. Extremely, even. Well, sure, but are the boy talking pigeons as susceptible to flattery?"
<Some. Maybe just one,> he says. <Maybe I'm lonely and have imaginary friends. Or maybe I'm in hiding and can't talk about who I know in case you get grabbed by an evil cult that's interested in talking pigeons.>
"Evil anti talking pigeon cult. So is this the part where tomorrow I meet a talking raven that tells me you're up to no good and then I have to choose sides and find a magic sword and fulfill a prophecy? Because I'm so there, let's do it."
He giggles. <Sorry, I'm all out of magic swords,> he says, peck-nibbling her fingers affectionately.