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Quackity stood in a field, the wind blowing. His wings were out, not binded to his chest like they usually were. Esempi was a place where hybrids could live in peace, but even then they got glared at by the locals.
Quackity’s been binding his wings to his chest for as long as he could remember. If he didn’t, he’d get taken away by the hunters. He flapped his wings a little, trying to get the muscles working. It was late at night, so nobody should be awake to watch him fly.
A tig broke from somewhere in the darkness, and he immediately froze up. He lit the place around him with torches, so there shouldn’t be any mobs. A man emerged from the shadows. He was wearing a green bucket hat and his wings were drawn close to his chest.
“Quackity?” the man, who Quackity now recognized as Philza, asked. He nodded slowly, drawing his wings closer to him. Phil’s eyes darted to his wings, surprised.
“What are you doing out here this late at night?” Phil questioned, not mentioning his wings which he greatly appreciated.
“N-nothing,” Quackity stammered, obviously lying. Phil hummed in reply, walking closer to him. He tensed up, waiting for a punch, but nothing happened. He looked up, and Phil stood right in front of him.
“May I touch them?” Phil asked. Quackity only nodded in reply, still tense. Phil gently laid a hand on a wing. He flinched under the touch, but quickly relaxed. Phil stroked his wing, and he turned into butter under Phils careful hand.
If Phil noticed the teen was putting all of his weight against him, he didn’t say anything. He just kept petting the hybrid's wing.
Phil slowly sat on the floor, Quackity following him. Quackity was now practically on his lap, happily chirping. They stayed like that for the rest of the night, Quackity putty in Phils hands.
When the sun rose, Phil was forced to stop. He shouldn’t be in L’manburg. Quackity slowly came back to the real world, eyes fluttering open. There wasn’t anything said, just a mutual agreement.
And if them coming to this spot and Phil cleaning Quakcitys wings became a tradition, nobody needed to know.