Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26854056-20170305121938/@comment-28412230-20170312182827

''"So?" the burnette chuckled, gently putting his owl on Maxwell's shoulder as he did a sleugh of exaggerated, flailing movements, "I'm still as lively when I was twenty!"''

The older man glanced down to his niece, bending down as the bird of prey waddled it's way onto his forearm, consenting that the adolescent can have a closer inspection.

"Dove, sweetheart, this is what we call an owl," he lightly scratched Dr. Hoot's head, which she cooed, "If she were a chicken, she would've been much smaller, and not be able to fly."