A Feathery Friend

Summary: Reno introduces Tess to an old friend.

We had the trail to ourselves. All I could hear was the crunch of dry leaves under our shoes and the quiet babble of a brook, interrupted at times by the cheerful trills of birds in the trees above us. Reno's brightly colored shorts had to be the loudest thing for miles.

He had picked up some round, orange fruit whose Gaian name escaped me. He absently tossed it from one hand to the other as he strolled beside me, swinging his long legs at a leisurely pace. These weekend walks had become a habit once the snow had melted, but this was the first time we had headed down this particular path. Cliff Resort had countless ones to explore.

The spring sun had mustered enough warmth that I, like Reno, had dared to dig out a pair of shorts for our walk. I wasn't quite brave enough to go out without a hoodie, though that wasn't because of the weather; I didn't feel ready to wear short sleeves in public. As peaceful as these paths were, they weren't completely abandoned.

A warbling call rang out some way ahead. I didn't think twice of it – until it was answered by the warking of what had to be a whole flock of chocobos.

"That sounds like a lot of birds."

"Yeah." Reno threw his fruit high in the air and spun on his heel before catching it. "This path leads to the stables."

"Really?" I peered down the narrow path ahead, but the bushes had filled out with enough green to hide what lay at the end of it. "All these months at the Cliff, and I never knew we had chocobo stables in walking distance of our house."

"You've seen 'bos around tho', haven't ya?"

That was true. Ever since the snow had melted, I had spotted more and more chocobos with riders on the way up or down the Cliff.

"I thought they were visitors," I confessed, feeling a bit sheepish for not taking that observation further. "Spending a day or two at the resort."

"Some of 'em probably were, yeah. The guests who stay at the place for a while keep their birds stabled here, though. More peaceful for the 'bos than a parking lot farther up." He grinned as another bout of warking rang out when we stepped out of the woods. "And a lot more peaceful for us humans, too."

The noise that greeted us came from an enclosure on our left, made of sturdy wooden beams. Half a dozen birds were watching us like hawks – giant, gangly, flightless hawks, with long necks and longer legs. Their yellow, blue, and white feathers made a colorful contrast against the green grass and the red barn behind them. As we strolled along the fence, the ruckus died down and the birds went back to their idle picking through the grass.

The path had brought us to a dusty courtyard of sorts. The barn behind the chocobo pen had to be the stables, I concluded, while the white house to our right was presumably the owner's home. I picked up my pace, hoping they wouldn't mind us passing through their property. Reno didn't seem worried; he ambled on with full confidence, still juggling his orange plaything, but he was wont to do that even when he was trespassing.

"This way," he said at the corner of the enclosure. Instead of passing through as I had expected, he was heading for the stables.

I followed, puzzled and curious, but when he unlatched a door and opened it, I had to speak up.

"We're going inside?" I glanced around. "Shouldn't we check with someone first?"

"It's cool, Fitz. I know the guy who runs the place." He stepped aside, holding the door open for me. "'Sides… I got something to show ya."

"What? Here?"

He grinned and waved me in. "Come on in and see for yourself, baby."

After one final look around the empty yard, I followed him inside. The inside was dim and warmer than the outdoors. The dry air tickled my throat and was ripe with hay and that old musty cardboard smell I had come to associate with chocobos. As I took a moment to let my eyes adjust, I heard heavy snorting and shuffling from all around us.

"C'mon," Reno said, taking my hand. He pulled me along with sudden impatience, taking me down a concrete aisle with stable doors lining either side. Some had their top halves pulled aside, revealing empty straw-filled boxes or curious eyes above big beaks. Reno stopped at one of the half-open boxes; it looked much like any other to me, but when he peered inside, his face lit up with a huge smile.

"Hey there, pretty bird," he cooed. "Remember me?"

After some shuffling, a yellow chocobo's head popped into view. She sniffed at his hair, then nudged his cheek with her beak, warking softly.

"Guess that's a yes," he said, laughter bubbling in his voice. "This pretty bird is Daphne."

My mouth had fallen open as I watched the two of them greet each other.

"You, uh… know each other?"

"Sure do. Kept her stabled out in the Grasslands, but figured she might be more use 'round here these days."

"Hang on." I looked from his grinning face to the bird. "She's yours?"

"Uh huh."

"You… own… a chocobo?"

"Two, actually." He stroked the back of his fingers down her neck. "Daphne here is a mama 'bo, see. I got one of her boys, too. He's a racer at Gold Saucer."

My jaw dropped even farther.

"You have a racing bird?"

"Yup," he said, beaming with pride. "Not a big name or anything, but he wins enough of the smaller races to pay for himself and his mama."

I stared at the bird as I tried to process this. She made a squawking sound and scraped at the hay with one of her clawed feet.

"Anything else you want to spring on me while you're at it? Got a private jet stashed away somewhere? A villa in Costa del Sol?"

Reno chuckled.

"Sorry, babe, I ain't a secret millionaire. Which is why I brought Mama Bird here. Figured you'd want a way to get around."

"Me?"

"Yeah. I know you like to drive and drive fast," he flashed me a grin, "but cars are gonna be way over our budget 'til someone figures out fuel that ain't made of Mako. 'Bos, tho'?" He patted Daphne's beak. "All they need is a bag of greens to keep 'em running."

The bird stretched out her long neck and peeked out over the door, snuffling. Reno looked at the fruit in his other hand and grinned.

"Want some of this, huh?"

He turned his back to us, reaching into his pocket. When he turned back, the fruit was neatly sliced in two.

"Here." He offered me one of the halves. "Say hello to her."

"With this?" The surface of the fruit was lobed like a pumpkin, but it was small enough to fit in my palm and the skin was smooth to the touch.

"Uh huh. She's crazy 'bout mimetts. Give her this and she'll be your best friend forever, yo."

He raised his hand, holding up his half of the fruit in his open palm. With a clack of her beak, Daphne snapped up the fruit and gobbled it down.

"Your turn, babe."

Reno took a step back to give me room at the door, but I hesitated.

"That's… a really big beak."

"Aw, don't worry," he chuckled. "She ain't a biter."

Gingerly, I stepped forward and raised my hand. Her head shot out, beak snapping. I flinched back with a yelp, while Reno's laughter rang in my ears.

"See?" he asked, still snickering. "Not even a scratch."

He was right about that. The fruit was gone, but the palm I was rubbing hadn't been touched at all.

"So, now that you two are friends and all…" Reno had stepped up to the door again and was scratching Daphne's neck. "Wanna go for a ride?"

I did a double take.

"Now?"

He shrugged. "Why not? Gotta do something with a nice day like this."

"You're just pummeling me with surprises today, aren't you?"

"C'mon, Fitz, it'll be fun. You take the bird, I'll take the bike." He grinned. "Race ya."

I eyed Daphne, trying to imagine myself on her back. I had never gone on a ride just for fun. It wasn't something I thought of as entertainment.

Fun or not, Reno did have a point about transportation. If I wanted a means to get around that didn't involve begging permission to borrow one of Shinra's company cars, I would have to make friends with Daphne sooner or later.

If only she had been a teensy bit… smaller.

"Yeah, okay," I finally said. "If she's willing to give it a go, then so am I."

"Awesome. I'll get her ready for ya." He turned and wandered down the aisle.

"No racing, though!" I called after him.

"Oh, I dunno. You might change your mind once you get a taste of it." He gave me a grin before he disappeared around the corner.

It was just me and the bird. I could have sworn she was sizing me up with her beady eyes, the same way I was appraising her. I thought back on the first time – only time, so far – that I had sat on the back of a chocobo. With a pang of guilt I wondered if Goldie had made it safely back to her farm. The bird in front of me was similar in size, though she seemed to be a more slender build.

Another memory returned to me, from the morning of that marshlands disaster: Reno surrounded by our little flock of birds. The more I thought about it, owning a chocobo wasn't exactly out of character for him. I would just have expected to hear about it before now.

"How long have you known this guy, huh?" I asked the bird, who cocked her head at the sound of my voice.

"'Bout ten years, give or take."

I glanced over my shoulder to see Reno approach us with a saddle in his hands.

"Ten? And you never mentioned to me you own a bird? No, two birds?"

"Didn't say I've owned her for ten years. Took me a while to save up the gil." He set down the saddle on the door, then picked up the reins and bridle that were slung over his shoulder. "As for why I didn't bring 'em up before… Didn't think of it, I guess." He slid the bridle over her beak, then gave it a pat. "Ain't seen her much in the past few years. Had too much going on."

He opened the bottom half of the door and entered the box. As I watched him fling the saddle over her back, the uneasy feeling in my stomach grew stronger. The chocobo was awfully tall compared to him, and Reno had a whole head on me.

"Should I get suited up for this?"

"What, you wanna break poor ol' Mama Bird's back?" Reno gave me a grin before turning his attention to the straps of the saddle. "You'll be fine, babe. She's as dependable as a big ol' rock."

"Maybe so, but old rocks can go pretty fast when they roll down a cliff."

He laughed. Startled by the noise, Daphne flicked her head and gave a loud snort.

"Great," I sighed. "Now the bird is laughing at me too."

"We ain't laughing at you, baby. We're laughing with you." He patted the bird's feathery flank. "Ain't that right, Mama?"

The bird made a clucking sound and bobbed her head up and down. Reno snickered as he handed me the reins.

"Love it when they do that. Pat 'em the right way and they'll agree to anything you say."

I stared at the reins in my hands, then at the bird they were attached to. She stared back, her head tilted expectantly.

"C'mon, ladies," Reno called, already strolling toward the stable doors. "Time to get in the saddle, yo."

I wasn't going to gain confidence by waiting, I knew that much. With a sigh, I gave the reins a gentle tug.

"Okay, Daphne. Let's–"

I skipped back as she barged past, trotting after her owner. I had no choice but to jog after her, clinging to the reins. Once outside in the sun, she stopped and gave her head a shake – and nearly pulled herself free, even though I had the reins in my good hand.

"Here, lemme hold her for ya," Reno said, taking them from me. "She ain't been out today, so she's a lil' frisky."

He took up position in front of her, mumbling something I couldn't make out. It made her stop clawing at the ground and go still. I watched them a while, trying to figure out if it was the tone of his voice or the hand stroking her feathers that had such a soothing effect on her. I would need that knowledge, once I was on her back. Without the suit, she was far stronger than I was.

"What's with the wide-eyed look, Fitz?" Reno asked. "Ain't like it's your first time riding a 'bo."

"I've done it once, while covered in armor from head to toe." I shivered as I recalled the mad, soggy dash from the last time I'd ridden. "I only hope we don't run into any giant marsh snakes this time around."

"No prob, long as you stay outta the marshes." As his gaze drifted off into the distance, a dreamy grin appeared in his face. "I gotta say tho', thinking 'bout that still gives me the chills. In a good way."

"Weirdo," I teased.

"That's rich, from the woman who took out a freaking Zolom by herself, but is scared of this big fluffy ball of sweetness." He took Daphne's head between his hands and tickled her cheeks. "C'mon, look at her!" he cooed. "Look at this sweet lil' face. How could anyone be scared of this?"

"Okay, okay," I said, trying to keep the giggles under control as I placed a foot in the stirrup. "I'll do it, just so I won't have to watch you babytalk some ridiculously oversized chicken."

"Hey!" He swatted my behind playfully. "No insulting Mama Bird on my watch."

I was so glad I had worn shorts for this outing instead of a dress. It was a shaky process, swinging my leg over her back and getting into the saddle, and not just because of my fits of laughter. The previous time had been months ago, and it was a very different experience without my suit. I could smell her for one, and the feathers below the saddle tickled my bare legs. Above all else, I felt so tiny, sitting on the back of this enormous winged creature.

Birds had once been dinosaurs, hadn't they?

"Whoa." I grabbed the saddle as she shifted her weight, laughing nervously.

"See? Ain't so hard, is it?" Reno grinned up at me. "You'll remember how it's done in no time."

"Like riding a… big old rock bike." I cast an anxious glance past my leg. "I don't remember the ground being so far away, though."

"Don't tell me you're scared of heights, lil' miss Cliff Climber?"

"I can usually trust the cliffs not to move under me. Besides…" I frowned at my bad arm, hidden beneath the sleeve of my hoodie. "It's not like I've been doing any climbing lately."

"We can fix that too, baby." Smiling, he stroked the chocobo's slender neck. "In the mean time, Mama Bird here will look after ya like you're one of her own. Ain't that right, pretty bird?"

Daphne cooed and bobbed her head up and down.

"Every time," Reno chuckled. "Love it."

He held onto the reins near Daphne's beak as he led us out of the yard, but let go once we were through the gate. I squeezed the reins in a white-knuckled grip and frantically racked my brains for the riding tips that Cissnei had given me. Fortunately, the bird seemed immune to my jitters. She ambled beside Reno, listening to his low chatter. Little by little, I settled into the rhythm of her springy gait.

By the time we arrived at our lodge, my heart had left my throat. As Reno brought his bike out of the garage, I steered her in circles around him; first to the left, then to the right. To my great satisfaction – and no small amount of awe – she was following my cues. She had followed them all on the way over.

As I patted Daphne's flank and murmured my thanks, I thought back on the speed of my previous steed as we crossed the Grasslands. Goldie had been a steady bird, but according to Reno, Daphne was the mother of a racer. That had to mean she carried some of those racing genes herself. I wondered how much faster she might go than Goldie. I wondered what the wind might feel like in my hair, now that I had some again.

A grin had spread across my face. I turned to Reno, who had straddled his bike and was fiddling with the ignition.

"Reno! Race you to the bottom!"

I squeezed Daphne's sides with my heels and squealed with laughter as she took off like a shot.

A/N: Who here remembers Mama Bird Daphne?