Mother
I picked at the scab on my wing. It was on the tight skin beneath my feathers. I didn't like the feeling of the scab. It was crumbly and weird. But I couldn't stop touching it.
"Don't do that," the older girl said. She grabbed my wrist.
"You can't tell me what to do," I told her in her head. She blinked owlishly.
"Just because you have that power, doesn't mean you can use it when ever."
I looked at the floor of my grimy cage. I had never had been reprimanded so sternly, but so gentky at the same time before.
"Sorry," I whispered.