Wolf always went to the Gardens after school. It was where his knotted muscles eased and relaxed in the cool and quiet, where he could groan and mutter and twitch and no one would care. Sid was the only person there, and Sid didn't care if Wolf twitched.
Wolf loved Sid. He'd meet him every afternoon and they talked for hours, about Wolf's day, and Sid's, about everything and anything they liked. Sid was the only person Wolf could ever talk to. The only person who understood him. And Sid loved Wolf, because there weren't many people who understood Sid either.
Wolf would sit in the hot and stuffiness of the classroom all day, the noise of the children, and the filter in the fish tank buzzing at his ears, pulsing at his temples, the brightness of the walls blinding him. He'd long for the draping, shading trees of the Gardens, the absence of people and their noise. He tried to tell them that he couldn't think when they were all talking but it didn't work, they didn't understand.

He exploded out of the car when it stopped, streaking between the trees, across the bridge over the stream, and up the hill to where Sid waited for him. The gardeners knew him by sight. He slowed down when he got near to Sid though, because Sid didn't like it when Wolf ran at him.
Wolf let out a strangled cry, and Sid turned, opening his eyes, and came over. He waited all day for Wolf to come. Wolf always came.
"Hello" cried Sid. Wolf laughed.
The two pairs of eyes closely watched one another, the soft bewildered brown into the piercing black, Wolf's flickering, blinking, head moving, Sid's locked.
"Hello" repeated the owner of the black eyes, his head cocked ever so slightly.
Wolf didn't reply but his eyes flickered up and to the side before focusing on Sid's unwavering gaze. His hands twisted themselves into knots, he scratched at his cuticles and rubbed his knuckles. One foot kicked at the concrete wall. Wolf blinked at the unruly appendage.
"Hello." Sid said again, patiently. He dipped his head and shuffled sideways. It took Wolf a while to collect his thoughts, think of what to tell Sid.
He opened his mouth as if to attempt, then closed it, changing his mind. His eyes never left Sid's now. Wolf knew that Sid's eyes held all the secrets of the universe. Every day, they would whisper to Wolf, shining, a few more.
"Hello. What have you been doing today?" Sid asked gently and Wolf shook his head and shifted from one foot to another. He opened his mouth, agitated, and tried. All that came out was a moan.
Sid nodded. He scratched the corner of his mouth. He waited.
The boy mumbled under his breath. Sid understood.
"Hello," he said calmly.
The boy relaxed. He tugged at his hair, hummed aimlessly under his breath. Sid's eyes followed his hand.
"What have you been doing today?"
Wolf jumped once, his sneakers hitting the concrete with a smack. Sid jerked in surprise then settled and refocussed on the restless boy. He waited silently for an answer.
Wolf told Sid what he had done that day, and Sid listened, his eyes shining. He didn't interrupt, or sigh, or walk away. Wolf's voice echoed off the walls as he told Sid about his lessons, the stares that came his way, the things people threw at him, the teacher's exasperation at his groaning and fidgeting. The good parts too. The white butterfly he'd seen alighting on a lettuce in the school gardens, the scraping, swelling moan of the double bass in music class. Sid was fascinated. He was sympathetic. He understood everything. He smiled when Wolf stopped, and scratched his face again, then his back and foot. The child seemed amused by his sudden motions and let out a strangled laugh, making Sid's eye's brighten. They were both fidgeters.
A noise started up in the grass nearby, the mower. A cicada sang in a tree above the pair. There was noise all around Wolf. There always was.
"Wolf " said Sid.
"No. Shh." He had to untangle his thoughts. Even Sid's voice could be a distraction. Sid looked away and didn't reply. The cicada stopped the mower became white noise. The boy tugged his hair and moaned softly, an apology.
The gleam returned to Sid's dark eyes.
"Good sir. Good sir." He said quickly and Wolf chuckled. He leaned his head against the thickly woven wire separating them, his eyes closed, and Sid combed his cruelly curved black beak through the boy's soft hair. They stayed that way for an hour of more, the child pressed against the aviary wall, the wire branding grooves into his face and arms the sulphur-crested cockatoo preening his hair lovingly, clicking his black tongue, occasionally murmuring something to Wolf. Bits and snatches of his long day in the quiet unchanging aviary. Wolf's finger stroking Sid's wrinkled black toe where it clung to the wire
They both jumped as Wolf's name was called, the noise knifing through the blanket silence that had fallen. Sid flared his wings. The boy pushed himself off the wall and gazed into Sid's eyes.
"G'bye" Sid said gently.
Wolf held his gaze a moment longer, then he was gone, without a backward glance, running, the slaps of his sneakers echoing off the stone of the aviary walls. Then the quiet settled again and Sid fluttered off his perch on the wall of his enclosure and onto the rotting branch that was his throne. He expertly combed out his pure white feathers and tucked his head under his wing as the bricks of the aviary cooled around him, and the gentle night closed in. Tomorrow he knew, the sun would rise, and Wolf would come back.