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Sometime
the next day, Oswald Cobblepot woke from a restless sleep with a
groan. He turned on the small, uncomfortable bed and tried to go back
to sleep. He couldnt do much else in his padded cell at Arkham
Asylum. Why did they send him to this damn place, he asked in his
mind. He probably wouldnt mind if he had a choice between prison
and Arkham. At least in prison, your fellow inmates dont breakdown
and shit themselves because of some bad Schizophrenic hallucinations.

Chirp.

Huh?
Penguin got out of bed, barely hearing the chains of his shackles and
saw, perched on the doors window bars, Little Finch. What are
you doing here, Finch? He asked, quietly, so no guards heard him.
Finch tweeted in response before flying into the cell and landing on
Oswalds shoulder. Ozzy offered his other arm for the bird to perch
on, to get a better look at something.

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