A few things are left. His wings are wings, with slender hard limbs under all the feathers, not distorted human arms, yet a tighter slimmer thumb and index finger poke out near the allula. Obviously he's able to cry. Despite its shape his tongue is still covered in bumpy papillae. Some of the structure of his jaw is the sa- similar, if felt through the feathers. It would take some feeling. Feathers pad his skin out quite a lot, especially fluffed up like this. And so on.
His fingers twitch and his wings move a little across the floor, half folding but drooping against it, and stop. Sadly what brings Julien to stir, some time after things have stopped moving, is actually the way tears that didn't make it out of his eyes collect uncomfortably. His nasal passages don't drain into the back of his throat, they drain through the hole in the roof of his mouth. He may be able to cry, but he isn't built so that long periods of it are comfortable or dignified.
Julien shivers and abruptly pulls his head away, curving on a too-flexible neck to a right angle, before turning his head and opening his beak so a few spoonfuls of clear slightly thickened fluid spills out onto the floor. Then he opens his eyes, or at least the one facing up. He's not sure how to move his head.
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A few things are left. His wings are wings, with slender hard limbs under all the feathers, not distorted human arms, yet a tighter slimmer thumb and index finger poke out near the allula. Obviously he's able to cry. Despite its shape his tongue is still covered in bumpy papillae. Some of the structure of his jaw is the sa- similar, if felt through the feathers. It would take some feeling. Feathers pad his skin out quite a lot, especially fluffed up like this. And so on.
His fingers twitch and his wings move a little across the floor, half folding but drooping against it, and stop. Sadly what brings Julien to stir, some time after things have stopped moving, is actually the way tears that didn't make it out of his eyes collect uncomfortably. His nasal passages don't drain into the back of his throat, they drain through the hole in the roof of his mouth. He may be able to cry, but he isn't built so that long periods of it are comfortable or dignified.
Julien shivers and abruptly pulls his head away, curving on a too-flexible neck to a right angle, before turning his head and opening his beak so a few spoonfuls of clear slightly thickened fluid spills out onto the floor. Then he opens his eyes, or at least the one facing up. He's not sure how to move his head.