You focus the selector on the icon that merely says the word "oviposit" on it, having no idea what that word even means. Vocabulary was never exactly your strong suit.
The second male oriole continues flapping away, humping wildly at the helpless female. Then a second mist fills the room, this time purple in color. It lingers for awhile before being sucked out by vents in the room.
You wait to see what sadistic thing occurs, but nothing seems to happen. If anything, the male is seemingly satisfied and flaps away, leaving an exhausted Mark with her beak slightly open, tiny tongue pulsing ever so slightly as if she still felt the male thrusting inside her. By the state of the feathers and underlying flesh between her legs there was no doubting that she had been thoroughly bred.
The small door in the corner opens up, letting through with the males exit, leaving you alone with your poor brother. You look sadly at Mark. The bird just stares off to the distance, not even looking at you when you say his name. If a bird could look shamed, this was it. Was it possible that she enjoyed it?
You only entertain that thought for a second before casting it aside.
You notice that Mark is now breathing somewhat heavily. Like she's in some sort discomfort. You also notice that her belly is noticeably larger, as if she's swelling up quite rapidly. With concern you watch as she chirps slowly, her tiny legs twitching slightly, along with her tail feathers.
Between her legs, where her vagina (or whatever you call it) is, you see her fathers part further, revealing something white underneath. I tight ring of black flesh forms a near perfect circle just giving a hint of what lies inside. An egg, you realize in horror.
For several minutes Mike chirps meekly, and you watch as the egg ever so slowly pushes out of her birth canal. Her spread eagle position gives you an unhindered view of the laying process, which looks way more laborious than you'd expect. She surely isn't in an ideal laying position. But there's nothing you can do but watch as she strains to push the surprisingly large egg. The egg emerges with excruciating slowness.
Mike is panting hard from the pressure, squeezing her eyes shut with each push.
As the egg slowly crowns and nears its widest point, you wonder just how many legs she'll have to lay.