Phio looked around with his eyes. Flinching as an arrow shot past the princessâ€™s head. She had to be a princess and he could have sworn he heard one of them say that. Why was the princess protecting a mere â€œbirdâ€ such as himself? He laid on the large rag she had put him on. His tail feathers falling down the side of the bed a bit. He looked at her with soulful eyes. What was she going to do to him? Would she take care of him until he was better? What would she do? He let out musical cries of pain as she began cleaning his wounds. Firey shimmering tears trailed down the birds cheeks. Little drops of fire that hissed when the hit the rag. Hissed then faded out. He felt her putting herbs agains the wounds then binding them. He flapped his wing weakly but stopped when it hurt. Just looking at her pitifully. <<span style="font-style: italic">Thank you...it feels better some.</span>> He looked away with a moving of his head as her top went off and she put on new clothes. Turning his head to look at her. His wing hurt too much to fly. He was going to be stuck here for awhile it seemed. He was always feeling oddly weakened by the arrow that had went through wing and shoulder. He watched her stroke his plume curiously. It was soft and silky but feathery. He wondered what she was going to do to him. Yet tiredness over took him and he fell asleep. He slept peacefully until he heard movement. Opening one eye and looked around. It was a few hours later. A knock at the door followed by her father's voice. "Daughter? Why do the guards say you stole their catch from them?"