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The bird hops closer, up to the sill.

It pecks on the window, gently: taptaptap. TAP TAP. tap.

"Good," Thorne retorted, "Because I wasn't about to let you out of my sight any time soon."

It was a lie, and a tease, and it made everything seem better than ti really was. Thorne shoved the anxiety down and glanced up at Lucas. "Just met?" He reiterated curiously, but didn't press the subject, instead moving past them both once he was sure they wouldn't die or something equally terrible. He threw a look over his shoulder though at Lucas, a scoff low and animal in his throat.

"Yes," he murmured, "we will."

He went to rummage for a second in one of his cupboards before pulling a small bag of seeds from it. Trekking past Millie, the man gave the cat a good long pet, letting her roll her belly into his fingers before he went to open the window. With a click, it slid up beneath his fingers and he glanced down at the tiny bird, raising his brows at it.

"Well now," he said to it, whistling a gentle tune to it, "whatever do you want?"

He opened the bag and offered the bird a handful of seeds, wondering if it was, in fact, like other birds. Or if it was a supernatural bird, in which case - s**t.

Glancing back at the two men, Thorne frowned slightly. "So," he ventured, wondering at some form of supposed normality, "How spicy is too spicy for you both? I'd rather not start the night off trying to destroy your taste buds."

The bird pop-hops onto the sill. Its black wings are dappled with delicate white splotches, the largest of them at the elbow joint. It makes a sound best described as a peep, and pecks at the seeds.

It peeps again and dances from side to side.

"You're lucky I'm not my brother, or I would kill you with food," Thorne retorted, glancing back at Rylan as the bird pecked the seed from his hands. "Luckily, I am willing to accommodate poor white boys with no spicy tolerance."

He paused, staring down at the bird and extending a single feather like an offered perch. "In or out?" He asked it. "I warn you now, any funny business and my cat will eat you. I have her trained."

He didn't, actually, and Millie was lazy, but he was sure that bird wasn't sentient enough to understand the threat. He hoped, at least.

He looked back at the two, his expression flickering between concern and worried warmth. Well... at least, for once, they'd all started off on the right foot. This just had to be a hitch they overcame, right? Even with this damned bird.

"Strange things just keep happening to us, don't they?" He asked. His eyes flickered to Lucas and back to Rylan. "And yet, I keep getting surprised by it all."

It was a piss-poor attempt to lighten the mood. But at that point, Thorne was at a loss.

What else was he meant to do?

The bird pop-hops onto Thorne's extended finger and attempts to preen Thorne's tattoos. When that fails, it peeps again.

it seems quite content on its new perch.

If it wasn't so cute and ostensibly harmless, Rylan probably would have answered yes. As it was, he didn't have it in him to take the simple joy of petting the little ball of fluff away from Thorne.

"Just don't look at me with those creepy eyes," he warned, keeping his distance from the peeping bird. Not that he had any right to judge. And for now, at least. the immediate threat of being stuck in a bird's body forever has been mitigated.

"Well, if there's a trend," he added, look back at Thorne. "No sense in letting things hit us on an empty stomach."

Thorne watched the two men with raised brows, wondering at their combined ineptitude and muteness towards the subject of Enemy Number One. Rylan was probably in some vague version of - of something? Contemplation? Shock? - and Lucas was teasing but barely broaching the subject.

What had started as an entertaining day had certainly taken a goddamn turn for the weirder.

Thorne sighed and decided to give the bird a new perch in one of the woven baskets he'd recently upended of the brushes he'd been cleaning. The rest of the birdseed went there as well.

"Seriously," he said, "no funny business."

He turned to them both, prowling to the kitchen and sliding his hand over Lucas's back as he passed. "Meat is in the fridge," he hummed, opening a cabinet and starting to tug at bottles full of spices, "If you need something stronger than beer, it's in the freezer."

He glanced up at Rylan, a grin playing across his lips. "Your wish is my command."

"I think they're creepy," he intoned, watching the other two wander into the kitchen. He lingered a bit and finally peered into the woven basket where the little puff now sat surrounded by birdseed. Bird heaven? Probably.

He leaned closer, still uncertain. Because how dangerous could that little thing be? It was so frail looking he could probably crush it in one hand if he needed to. It was not in his nature to crush defenseless animals, but... who knew. This one was clearly not a normal bird.

Still, he had to admit, the little peeps were more endearing that threatening.

Grudgingly he reached a finger into the basket and half poked, half rubbed its little head once. The relief that came when he realized he hadn't been sucked back into it washed over him like a storm. Because... well. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe he'd just imagined it. Maybe he'd just been lightheaded.

It wasn't likely that they were all coincidences, but for now, at least, he could pretend that they were and not worry too much.

He picked up the basket and brought it over to the open window, setting it down on the ledge. "Alright, little s**t, eat up. Freedom awaits... unless you want to stay, in which case... I guess you can... This is America," He stared at the fluffy little creature, looking fat and happy in the basket. "Why do you look like me, bird?" He wondered aloud, booping its head again with one finger.

Part of him thought that maybe he should explain in more detail what had happened. But even Rylan didn't know what had happened, didn't really know how to make it seem less stupid than "I was in a bird." It didn't make sense even to him.

So he let it be. Why break up the happy sounds of dinner making coming from the kitchen? Maybe another day, when he understood a little better what he himself was up against.