Wings where like a window into a clones soul, heart, and health. Wings more often then not reflected how a clone was feeling, reflects their health and pride in their battalion or affiliation. Your wing color decided since decanting what battalion you would be in. Sometimes, seen in clone under immense stress, not physically healthy, or spiralling, a clone can develop wing rot, where the feathers rot and fall out, causing irritation of the skin and muscle of the wing. Wing rot could easily be prevented by two things, having someone else preen your wings, or, a gel that some of the medic had come together to crate that would work in the short term. Clones prided themselves on their healthy, sleek, strong wings, on their ability to fly. It was the first thing a clone learned- but not the Guard. For a battalion stationed on a planet where everything was only accessible by speeder, a hella long walk, or wings, Corries never used their wings. Not on kamino when they dropped by, not in front of other brothers from the GAR, never. Their wings where always tucked up tight to their backs, even covered sometimes and hidden, never spread, never out, never in the way. They walked, or rode speeders, even for joint missions between battalions and honestly, it worried the GAR. Their brothers knew they had been lacking in care for the guard and where worried about some of the behaviours the guard portrayed.