"Ma-caw!" Pheonix replied.
"How'd tha' work?" Locke asked.

"It worked out for the most part," Nathanial looks at Marcos, "then again I think he knew those words by the ease that they came to him. That and we did it when he was suppose to be asleep."

"English ain't a hard language ta speak; As ah sailor, Ah'm sure he's picked up ah bit." Locke thought aloud. "...Mayhaps we could teach 'im like tha', as we speak normally. Talk, then translate. Tha way, he ain't jis learnin' ta speak objects, but concepts as well."

"That's a good idea," Nathanial agrees, "but I worry about issues though. I don't know much about Marcos's past and cartain phrases may trigger bad reactions."

Locke frowned. "We can't do much thar, mate." He said. "Can't predict tha'. Ah mean, iffin yer fluent enough, ye could jis try askin', though there are issues thar as well."

"I'm that fluent though when I asked Marcos where he came from he wouldn't speak to me for a week," Nathanial retells a part he figured out, "and the majority of the crew Captain Waverider took in were rescues who needed a place to call home."

Locke scratched at his ear. "Well, 'S one er the other, an' both have risks."

"All too true," Nathanial keeps an eye on Marcos who is trying to teach Pheniox a tune.
Marcos whistles a soft joyful tune.

Pheonix studied Marcos as he whistled, eyes pinning*.

(*Pinning is when a parrot's pupils contract and dialate. They do this when the bird is paying attention or is excited about something.)

(Huh good to know.)

Marcos repeats the whistling tune.