Homebuilding

The feeling of wet clay under Roseate's claws never got old. He scooped another clawful up the bank and pulled it towards the pit he had designated as his nest site. It was far enough away from the river to avoid the flooding typical of the season, worth it obviously but he did wish for a shorter journey to and from the riverbank. As the mud began to dry quickly in the brisk spring air, he hurried to pack it tightly in a circle around the pit. As he sidled around the perimeter he reinforced the walls of the nest with the rushes he had gathered by the river earlier, leaving them laid out under the sun to dry for a few days. They seemed to suck the moisture out of the mud but if he worked quickly enough then he was able to make the wattle nest he had observed times before from his more avian neighbours. His pale pink feathers were caked in muck by now but he barely noticed as he stood back to admire his work.

Avril hadn't arrived yet, taking her time migrating to his neck of the woods as she was already heavy with eggs. He had tried to convince her to settle earlier but she was a wanderer at heart and even nesting seemed to be staying in place for too long for her. Roseate wasn't even sure if she considered any part of the islands to be home, making him anxious about where the hatchlings would go once they emerged from the safety of the eggs. If necessary, he would put his foot down and insist on raising them in a stable environment, moving back to the riverbank he had grown up on. He held no territory there but it was safe and the river provided enough fish to feed a clutch of four, a clutch of five would be rare but he would make it work somehow if he needed to.

Avril was easy to see coming, the combination of her loud colouring and louder accessories letting Roseate spot her from a mile away. He hurried to meet her halfway, keen to escort her on the final leg of her arduous journey.

“How was the walk?” He asked anxiously, scanning her for any sign of injury.

“It was fiiiiine,” she sighed, “you worry too much.”

“I think I worry enough,” he pouted, “The nest is nearly finished, I've been working on it for a few days and it's shaping up nicely.”

“That's good,” Avril said politely, “it won't be long before the eggs arrive, I can feel it.”

“Does it hurt?” Roseate asked, his voice heavy with concern.

“No, it's more like a pressure, it's hard to- what is that?” Avril cut herself off, staring ahead at Roseate's nest.

“The nest! It's not finished yet so don't judge it too harshly, it's taking a little longer than I thought,” he rambled as Avril slowly circled the nest.

“You're making a nest like a water bird,” she observed plainly.

“Y-yeah? It works for them so...” Roseate trailed off, withering under her scrutiny.

“We're not water birds,” Avril said blankly.

"I know that!" Roseate shot back before looking down at his nest, "But they still lay eggs, I thought this would do." His despondent expression pulled on Avril's heartstrings a little and she decided to stop teasing him for now, though she was still lacking a nest for some very imminent eggs. It would have to be a delicate balancing act of minding Roseate's hurt feelings and actually getting the job done. 

"Do you want me to show you how raptors nest?" Avril offered, "We can build it together."

"I can't ask you to do that, I'm supposed to make the nest and you're supposed to be resting," Roseate protested. 

"Fine, then I'll sit here and rest while I tell you what to do, now get ready to dig, chop chop," she ordered brusquely. The volcanic utah only hesitated for a moment before standing up straight and shuffling to the side, away from the old nest and ready to start the new one. "Well, the shape was right," Avril started with a compliment, "You just constructed it wrong, you have to dig dry earth, start by making a shallow hole." Roseate did as instructed, making the hole about half his body length in width and patting down the sandy earth until the edges were smooth. It took him about half an hour to stop fussing with it, by which time Avril was already dozing off.

"Finsihed, what next?" His eager voice broke through her hazy fog and she blinked the sleep away as she evaluated his work.

"Good, now we build up the edges. Like you're making a wall for the hole you just made," she clarified. He followed the instructions to the letter, making blocky walls of dirt that enclosed the ankle-deep depression in the soil. He was beginning to neatly shape the corners of the sod walls when Avril cleared her throat to interrupt. "Make them lean into the centre a little more." Roseate hurried to correct the walls, making them slant inwards like the sides of a volcano caldera. 

"Alright, what's next?" he puffed, looking up at where Avril was supervising.

"That's it," she said, smiling.

"That's it? That's all?" he asked, tilting his head in confusion.

"That's all we need, I'll lay the eggs in a few days and you'll see," she reassured the fussing male, "Trust me, it's the most natural thing in the world, we'll be fine."

"If you say so," Roseate said agreeably, even if he knew that this was Avril's first clutch two. He wished he had half the confidence she did when it came to things he knew nothing about.

"Now, all this work works up an appetite, you'll go hunt me something to eat, right?" Avril prompted.

"Of course, that's what I'm here for," Roseate replied, puffing his chest feathers out. He turned to the direction of the river and began to walk towards it.

"Oh, and something other than fish. If you turn me into a piscivore while I'm here I'm going to take the kids."