Mort's beak moves as if to speak, but finds that the effort to form words is too much. He knows the Harpy leader by name, from some Who's Who thing he'd read back before all this misfortune. He wants to blurt out his family's proud name. He wants to also shrink into a corner and sleep and never wake. 

Still, the talking statues make him wonder if maybe there's some purpose left in the planet for him. The idea of a purpose is a small twinkling light at the end of a dark, tortuous tunnel. He decides to take on whatever the fates have planned for him, and speaks in assent:

"Statues babblin' under some dumb light trick ain't no basis for a system of government, ya loony hoots. Y'all are off yer rockers. But I'm tired of that dungeon, and a breath of fresh air to stretch my wings in is more than this humble bird can ask fer."