"Aye", agreed Kay, "Ye first touched this little brother through me, so (like myself) both gifts do indeed lie within ye -- else you'd not have sensed him. Not being quite sure where to start, she began, "Now that ye know the taste of our winged brother's mind, I have faith that ye will be able to learn to sustain it on your own. With time and with practice, the ties between the two of you will grow thick and strong like the trunk of a tree".
She paused, then gave him a reassurring grin. "This was all once new to me as well, back when I was only a young lass of fifteen", came a wry comment. "For now", Kay suggested, "the best advice I can offer, is to NOT to consciously think about it --- clear your mind and just feel what comes to you. Flow upon it like driftwood on the sea, and let the sensations carry you where they will. Some of them may seem strange or unsettling. But as long as you do not panic, none of it should have the power to harm you."
"And if you ever feel the link dimming, then build up a picture of this owl in your mind. Make it so clear that you can see every detail of him; even with your eyes closed. Think of all that he means to you, and how strongly you wish for him to hear you. And I must warn you to never let yourself forget that you are a man, not a bird. I can remind you of your humanity if I feel you slipping, but I'm not cetain that I could pull you back if you fought me"
That said, Kay moved her hand forward to bridge the gap between their fingertips. Once again, there was that same spark as her hand grasped his. But THIS time they were prepared for the three-way wordless rapport, and there was not even a flinch as it flared up like a twig tossed upon a campfire.
A wave of *calmness**affection* *delighted-anticipation* lightly touched Ceroill's mind soothingly. That would be Kay, he guessed, before the sensation became mostly-eclipsed by the entrance of a third member into their rapport. *half-starved hunger* *eagerness* *possessiveness*. The bird-mind reached greedily towards the man-mind, no longer able to resist the temptation.
There was a sudden thump as a winged-body abruptly pressed up against as much of the man as possible. Two bright avian eyes filled Ceroill's entire field of view. They seemed to stare right through him, piercing through every crevice of his mind and evaluating it before pronouncing it worthy. Finally, the owl formed a sound naming the man. It rang in Ceroill's ears, resonating within every nerve and bone in his body and indicating something like *Elder/Brother/Uncle/Friend*.
Happiness and delight flowed outwards from Kay. It wound supportingly around the man and bird with a soothing warmth like that of soft lambswool blanket. When she spoke, her voice initially echoed oddly in the man's ears, as if she were speaking from a distance. "He has named you in his own language", Kay prompted, "now you must signal your own reciprocal claim by naming him in yours. Speak it aloud now, and he will answer to it".
Ceroill's monastery training indeed echoed Kay's advice, and his own instincts. As he did his best to still the cacophany of his mind a bit more, he welcomed the 'now-ness' of the birdmind. "Oberon", he said softly as he gazed deeply into the great golden eyes. Then he chuckled, and said even more quietly, "Yes, little friend, I am sure you will find mice to eat at my home. Our home. "The owl hooted softly in agreement. He rubbed his beak affectionately against the man's chest, then gave him a soft nudge, as if suggesting a course of action.