Mocha

It smelled of tallow and paper, a waxy and warm aroma mingling with the enchanting fragrance of tea. You inherently felt like you had to straighten your back and keep your wings furled tight, a place as proper as this felt alien in comparison to the tangled deep woods of the refuge. Stacks of paper, old letters, books by the armful, gifts from others and parcels ready to go - despite your newness to the refuge, this would be a new sight to many.

"Ah, there you are." A voice cooed from an old oaken desk, lain high with strange objects and quills of all breeds. Mocha leans out from behind his crystal ball, a stack of letters pushed across the wooden surface. "Sorry to bother you, but I simply cannot deliver these myself. Do you have the scales from your last route?"

You nod, producing a handful of shells from a pocket and laying them on the desk. Mocha accepts them and turns them over, the tell-tale markings and colours denoting exactly who'd given the scale, signifying a message received. He smiles below the wide brim of his hat. "Very good, very good!" Mocha praises, excited claws picking up a stuffed bag of letters and parcels and handing it to you. "There's quite a few here, some even outside the refuge. Please, take your time and become acquainted with the residents."

As you leave Mocha's house, you pluck the wax seal and unwind the twine around the letters, reading the names of your recipients.