Redhawk Caldera Things things things

Would-be Oriole had worked himself into a sort of trance, humming tonelessly and merely enjoying the feeling of vocalizing. He bubbled and gurgled and murmured which, beyond shitting, was just about all he could do. If he felt truly motivated he could bumble along with his useless little legs, but why would he do that if he could just sit there? Oriole remained content to do jack shit, even after he was nudged on the bum.