<Beloved by talking animals everywhere! Well, at least one talking animal. That's better than most people get.>
<I've never been a mouse. I was going to try it after something you said the other day, I forget what, but then I got distracted and didn't get around to it.>
<I'm not shapeshifting in public! Hiding, remember? Hiding. Besides, have you ever seen somebody shapeshift? It looks really gross.>
<If you are just that desperate to see me shapeshift, then yeah, sure. I haven't learned any mice yet, but I have a couple of owls and those are way softer than mice.>
"Ooooh," beams Rhea, and she cuddles him to her chest and heads out of the park with him in her arms.
Pet pet pet. She gets a couple odd looks on the walk home for carrying a pigeon, but people apparently assume he's a stuffed animal or something.
Trouble doesn't do much to dispel this illusion. Rhea is snuggly and warm and he is totally fine just huddling up here as a soft fluffy pigeonball.
Rhea and her talking pigeon eventually arrive back at the apartment complex, and she carries him right up to her apartment, lets herself in, and puts him on her bed. "There," she says.
The pigeon starts growing.
"Hi," he says, bouncing a little.
"You're on a milk carton. I mean not a literal milk carton, you're in, like, the newspaper, missing person, Angel something."