feathers

And who thought that would be enough feathers for the Carnival costumes?

The owl ruffles its feathers and looks away.

Already they had discovered that the mattresses on their cots were filled with feathers, and they were plucking them out through the mattress ticking, one by one.

“Trochaic tetrameter, more or less,” Penelope announced brightly, pushing her way past the waving feathers.

“Face, hair, dress—why is it all so complicated? If I were a bird, I would wear the same feathers every day and no one would think less of me for it.”