Young master, you were always the warmest.
Even if I were made of snow and the cold's icy fingers didn't take hold of me like most humans, I would never refuse the space at your side, nor would I be denied it. Wrapped in your coat, where the soft feathers tickled my cheek and your breathing was as rhythmic as the waves lapping against our ship.
Your arm would be gently pressing me to your side, yet I never doubted its ability to defend those you cared for. Sometimes, I would glance up at you, and I would wonder whether you had drifted into sleep, or were fully aware of my curious gaze. However, your feathers would always distract my quest, and I would forget to check, too busy enjoying the feeling your coat left me.
Feathers have come to remind me of you, especially when I was away from the warmth of yours.
I got myself my own pair of wings, with feathers green like my hair. They would keep me warm in your place, while on that mission you entrusted to me. It always felt as if you were the one guiding me through the cold skies of Punk Hazard. I kept this a secret and I couldn't wait to return to your side and surprise you with the wings I was so proud of.
Your tender touch, as soft as your feathers, is what gives me the strength to carry out this last order. I cannot bring myself to call it suicidal, rather it is a sacrifice for your dream.
When you gave me that last order, I can't say I wasn't disappointed. I knew though, you would come find me and then you could see my wings. And I have accepted it, my duty to serve you is more important than my childish wish. But could I ask for one last favor?
Will you keep your feathers and remember me by them, as I did with you? Will you recall the nights I spent curled up in them? Will you hold those memories dear, just like I did and always will?