Tired. That's what he was. Tired. He had already eaten the chunk of meat earlier, and was not particularly hungry. The world around him seemed to swim, and navigating on four feet began to feel alien to him in a way that it had not before; his only thought now was 'bed.' He took on a stumbling, lurching gait rife with pauses as he made his way for the barracks; not through any particular insight, but simply because it seemed to be the building that most were heading for.<br/><br/>He approached the entrance, and while typically he would've lowered his head to get through it somehow seemed much smaller than other doors he'd been in; he lowered himself straight to the ground and drug himself through it on his belly, only standing up on the other side. He passed the entrance to the kitchen, and saw it: Stairs. Tricky under the best of circumstances, they looked like an insurmountable obstacle in his current state. Taking a deep breath, he put his right foreclaw forward on to the bottom step.<br/><br/>'kay. good.'<br/><br/>His left foreclaw came up on the next step.<br/><br/>'not as hard as it looked...'<br/><br/>He lifted his right hind leg, and midway through realized his forefeet would need to be further up the steps to accommodate his body length, so he lifted those too. And was suddenly trying to stand on only his left hind leg.<br/><br/>With a resigned skrawk he went sprawling forward across the stairs and slid back down into a feathered heap at the bottom. Swiftbeak could only give the malign architecture a stare of pure hatred before resting his head on the bottom couple steps and sprawling his body out as much as the hall would allow.<br/><br/>'comfy.' he thought as he blacked out, for some much-needed rest.