[Julien catches a fractional widening of her eyes in his clear peripheral vision and holds back a sigh. When he finally gets the keyring out, he turns what's left of his hand palm-up - of course, the rest of the wing turns with it - and gets the keyring unhooked.]
Here.
[The keys slide unhurriedly down an expanse of wing feathers and drop off the tip, falling into the bag if Belle doesn't catch them. Julien folds that wing, flicks his tail out behind him, and lowers himself to the bench again. Once more he slumps, spine curved.]
no subject
Here.
[The keys slide unhurriedly down an expanse of wing feathers and drop off the tip, falling into the bag if Belle doesn't catch them. Julien folds that wing, flicks his tail out behind him, and lowers himself to the bench again. Once more he slumps, spine curved.]
God, I don't see why feathers are this - heavy.