Memory is a funny thing, and haunts her dreams, and lives in her heart, and her parents are a pair of warm hands wrapped around her while she hides from the noises of nighttime. The cottonsoft touch of the orange-and-yellow tunic her parent used to wear is a comfortable haze of familiar as she buries her beak there, cooing softly. Smells of smoked seeds and pipeweed, just like always, and above her is the soothing sound of crackling flames, echoed back. Just a little, there's a smooth black nothing sense where her siblings ought to be, but when Kiri's mind turns that way a gentle blue hand holds hers.
"Come on, Kiri!" singsongs other-parent-Jester. "You say, 'I am very sweet!'"
Kiri doesn't know how to tell other-parent-Jester that words, spoken words, are so new and precious to her. In the dream, she answers with the happy sounds of her earliest memories: softly lapping water, the crinkling sound of hay as you bed down in it for the night. It was a sort of language, an amalgam of sounds that don't hold the same value as words to most, but it means the world to Kiri.
In the dream she shows other-parent-Jester to the tradestall where her parents put up their handiwork for sale. Both are clever with their feathered fingers, experts at weaving patterned cloths. She makes the clacking sound of the loom rolling over in their little house, and points to a dress in pink with purple and blue striping along its hem and sleeves, because she thinks it's just the sort of thing that other-parent-Jester would like. There are whispers of the rest of the Mighty Nein; other-parent-Caleb's warm hand and soft voice; other-sibling-Nott, worrying that Kiri will get lost. But she is not lost, because she is safe with New Family, and other-parent-Jester now can see the beautiful work that Kiri's parents sell to make enough coin to feed their flock. It is a happy dream.
Comforted, she wanders on, making the sounds of the industrial mill down the path from New Home. She is sure her other-parents will stay close behind her.