( Sunday reaches for his feathers so he can groom them back into perfection. It also serves as a distraction from the sudden spike of heat making his heart race. He calculates every thought carefully before he speaks. Considering how quick Six recoils away from his pain, his words are trustworthy as far as harm goes. )

First, it was our agreement we would exchange information about one another. I believe it's your turn now, Mr. Six. Remove your mask and tell me what you are.

( Don't mind him squeezing some firmness into his words, some bite. Besides, he rather not think about Mr. Gopher Wood's voice or his hands. )