With his hands clasped behind his back, he tried to remain calm and keep his dignity as much as possible. Sunday for the hundredth time cursing the argument he lost

"Mr. Aventurine..."

He shudders, feeling men's hands tugging at his feathers behind his ears, which were fluttering under someone else's fingers. He clenched his teeth, already turning into an irritated tone, his hands clenched into fists behind his back

"Mr. Aventurine! Would you mind explaining what you're doing with my feathers?"