He was glad to have his mouth free of feathers, and he was reminded of another reason why he never bothered to hunt fowl. They were simply too much of a pain to pluck before you could get to the meat, and he hated the sensation of feathers caught in his teeth. If this was for himself, he would have given up already, but nothing could keep him from a duty set to him by Deathbelle.
He grunted noncommittally when she commented on his den. “Yours is in a softer surface, it would be easier to enlarge, remind me once these pillows are done to work on it.’ he said as he placed himself beside her. He wasn’t too close, but they could both access the sakc in front of them without moving.
He pulled the swan towards him, leaving her with the smaller ducks. He ignored the downy feathers of its neck, and moved on to its main body. He used his large saber fangs to pull free the large wing feathers, careful to keep them as intact as possible. Then he moved on to the buoyant feathers of its body, the work was slow and exasperating, and he could already feel feather stalks stuck in his teeth.
Bloodletter
