“llium snorted. “I look like a damned duck.” His words weren’t far off the mark. The feathers that had grown over the injured section were soft, white, and delicately … fluffy. “I hope to hell these baby feathers fall off and get replaced by real ones. They will, won’t they?” He sounded worried.”

“It seemed to Abby that the peacock was strutting, showing off his feathers to an invisible audience in the night. It didn't look like he was worried about the peahen. He looked selfish and self-absorbed, like he knew he was beautiful. Abby watched his feathers blow in the wind, and she watched as the peahens followed with all of their strength. They followed because it was all they had ever down; they followed because it was all they knew how to do.”

“Run along now while I show off my new acquisition. No one below has feathers. I’ll be the envy of hell.”

“He thought that I was after him for a feather---The white one in his tail: like one who takes everything said as personal to himself.”

“Who are you?' Mo looked at the White Women. Then he looked at Dustfinger's still face.Guess.' The bird ruffled up its golden feathers, and Mo saw that the mark on its breast was blood.You are Death.' Mo felt the word heavy on his tongue. Could any word be heavier?”

“I got you this. I held out the brown, fluffy bear. To replace Burt. I pulled his eyes off and everything.”