I was speaking to a friend, regarding the comfort of different sleeping positions in avian humans, which led to an infodump on the logistics of bird people and the adaptations they would need to be somewhat plausible. As a certified autistic bird nerd, I feel the need to share my considerations to all of you lovely sex-havers. (Sincerely, an ace.)
-----------
1. In order to maintain powered flight, most birds have a bone called a keel, which is essentially an enlarged breast bone for wing/flight muscles to attach to.
The logistics of how we would place wings on a human body, which already has shoulder-controlling muscles attaching to the breast bone, is a question unto itself, but considering that bird wings are in fact just a bird’s arms, we can safely assume that a six-limbed modified human, with both arms and wings, would need two sets of pectoral muscles.
-RIP to Scott’s chest dysphoria, but seeing as both male and female flighted birds have keels, I am choosing to believe it causes him no additional dysphoria. (Not from his birdy brain, anyway. Human brain may be another story…)
2. Regarding oxygen intake during flight:
True flight is one of the most energy-consuming abilities in nature. To sustain it for any long period of time, flighted birds have several adaptations to help them consume as much oxygen as possible.
The first of these, which will be relevant later when considering a reasonable wingspan for a six-foot tall humanoid, are hollow bones.
Hollow bones in birds are called pneumatic bones. They are not hollow in the way that a human’s would be if you stripped them of bone marrow; rather, they have “pockets” within them in which air can flow, which helps move oxygen more efficiently through their bodies.
Contrary to popular belief, this does not make bird bones lighter or weaker. The bone is denser than in mammals, making them more difficult to break— but this also makes them brittle, more prone to shattering or splintering when significantly damaged, whereas a similarly-sized mammal might only receive a simple fracture.
Additional information, less relevant to Scott’s external anatomy and durability, purely for additional context of how the bones themselves “breathe”; therefore, this is an optional read:
The energy expended during powered flight is exponential, so oxygen needs to be flowing in at the same rate that carbon dioxide leaves. Air sacs connected to relatively small lungs help maintain that unidirectional, constant air flow, to provide the large amount of oxygen birds need to consume in order to fly. The hollow spaces of a bird's bones connect to these air sacs. Oxygen exchange does not happen in the bones or in the air sacs, but it does offer more space for air to be stored, giving them a greater overall lung capacity.
The actual process is quite difficult to explain in a quick summary, but if you know about “circular breathing” in humans, it’s almost similar, in the sense that air is moving around even while breathing in or out— though of course, the actual process is more complex than just pushing air out through cheeks.
The most important thing to consider about wingspan is an animal’s weight. In a world with an atmospheric density similar to earth, there is no chance that a bird as large as Scott would be able to take off, especially considering the added feather weight. Large birds such as waterfowl and vultures already struggle quite a bit.
However, that said, this is fantasy. We can pretend it has a denser atmosphere and/or weaker gravitational pull, and beyond that we can simply suspend our scientific disbelief.
We’ve established that Scott’s hollow bones would not make him lighter. Therefore, we can assume he weighs about the same as any other six-foot tall humanoid (ignoring added weight from extra limbs and massive feathers for simplicity), and his wingspan therefore would not need to be larger than any bird proportionally the same. This is true even if we pretend that his bones would not be hollow, more similar to that of a mammal’s.
Barn owls are normally about 13-16 inches in length, with wingspans between 39 - 49 inches wide.
A small, 13-inch-long barn owl might have a wingspan close to 39 inches— three times that of the body’s length. If we assume the same is true of Scott, then his wingspan may be up to 18 feet long, with each wing measuring close to 9 feet.*
*Note: a bird’s length is typically measured from the tip of its beak to the end of its tail feathers. Scott may or may not have tail feathers, as discussed later in this post, but he does have meaty human legs which may create more weight and drag. It is well-worth considering that his wings may be even larger to overcompensate for the lack of a tail, in order to create that lift he’s missing otherwise.
4. All this raises the question of how Scott could possibly maintain all of his feathers.
There are several steps to preening and maintaining feathers. Some are simple, such as simply shaking, raising, and ruffling feathers to get them all in place, but other steps are far more complicated and time-consuming, while being vital to a bird’s survival.
Scott, entering this new world where even breathing is different, would have had to go through a period of not only learning how to maintain his feathers, but also coming to terms with having to set aside potentially hours every single day for that purpose.
Real birds have an oil-secreting gland at the base of their tail. They collect the oil with their beaks to spread it through their feathers.
There are a few ways a humanoid avian might do this, such as collecting the oils from a special gland with their hands and spreading it through their feathers, but I’d lean toward the assumption that there is an oil he has to or can choose to buy, and specialized combs to help spread the oil evenly over each feather.
By himself, going over each individual feather might take hours, so this could be a great way to bond with friends who help him, especially when it comes to feathers at the back of his wings that he can’t reach with his sad human arms and short, inflexible human neck.
Along with learning to keep the feathers tidy, he also has to keep them clean. Shaking and oiling them would be required for daily maintenance, but as an owl, if he gets his feathers wet, he will be far too heavy to fly until they fully dry. If he gets them covered in mud, it might take weeks to get it out.
Owls, if you don’t already know, have “hairy” wings that help muffle sound during flight. The bottoms of the feathers are rigid, but the ends of each wing and tail feather are fuzzy to allow air to pass by without a sound, and the top of each feather also has a unique layer of “fuzz.”
Whereas most birds have some amount of water resistance and may be able to fly in the rain, an owl’s feathers make them uniquely vulnerable during wet weather, unable to fly in the rain.
(Consider the vulnerability Scott must feel when it rains, particularly during adverse weather. Consider the angst potential, whether it’s during his adjustment to his new body; or his desperation when his friends forget he can’t fly in the rain, assuming he’s right behind them or somewhere overhead, while fleeing an enemy during a storm. Imagine Scott crying out for help as someone grabs and binds his wings, but his friends can’t hear him over the downpour.)
I had it in my notes for writing this page to also mention pin feathers and blood feathers. My ramble about feather maintenance was pretty long-winded as-is, so you’ll be spared… This time.
TLDR: Feathers as disability (in towns that are not tailored to avian, or even owlish-specific, races)
I find it very difficult to imagine a humanoid (and therefore upright-walking) owl with tail feathers. How do they keep them from dragging on the ground and being useless? Do they have a different way of steering and controlling flight? Are their tails just incredibly perky? How does that work?
I have nothing to say here except to point out how important it is to have some way to steer flight. Think of Toothless from HTTYD. Can’t fly without the tail fins, and for good reason.
Bats control flight by having extra long fingers, but feathered wings don’t have those extra joints and feathers aren’t as maneuverable as skin.
Artists, I’m looking at you. Give me your wildest theories and ideas, if he doesn’t have tail feathers (or how we’d make that work). I can envision some horrible and beautiful alternatives. Please ask me for my ideas; I have so many.
(A perky tail is the most simple solution to Scott's tail problem-- funny, but we can be more creative.)
Ask me about Scott’s sleep habits and the logistics of that with extra and feathered limbs!
Ask me about the weird ways he’d have to land after flying, particularly at high speeds, and whether or not that might cause joint issues over time!
I have so many thoughts and notes that I was info-dumping onto @imfindingsolace, but not all are relevant to his physical anatomy as discussed here.
[I want someone to make a meme that just says "GET AUTISMED" in a way that feels or looks like you're being punched with autism. Pretend that image is here to finish off this post.]
