She could raise or lower her crest at will, leaving me in no doubt whatsoever about her mood at any given time. When she was annoyed, her red face would flush yellow and her strident voice expressed her displeasure in unmistakeable terms. In the early days of training, she frequently threw what can only be described as tantrums, throwing herself off the glove and spinning upside down, snapping as she rotated. Despite the warmth of the spring weather, it was not safe to handle her without long sleeves.
Cuthbert’s saving grace was that, in common with many extroverted individuals, she could be charming company when the spirit moved her. When at peace with herself and me, she would plant her feet widely on the glove and gaze trustingly into my eyes with an expression of kindly friendliness. I quickly came to realise that she was not really hostile, she just could not resist sampling different tastes and putting her best asset, her fearsome beak, to work whenever possible.
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yes yes yeah
wait where is the question?
this is only a story
so question?
anyways have a nice day~
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