In Other Lands - Elliot/Luke
Elliot was used to feathers. He frequently thought – and then verbalised, at length, because communication was important – that Luke’s wing-grooming habits left something to be desired, so detached feathers were just part of Elliot’s life now.
But it was a bit much to wake up legitimately choking on feathers. Handfuls of them. Mouthfuls, to be precise.
“Are you moulting?!”
“Stop laughing,” Luke grumbled, from under a veritable flurry.
“Oh my god, is it infectious?” Elliot demanded, plucking away.
“How? You don’t have wings.”
“I have hair.”
“You could lose half of it without anyone noticing- ow, that one was attached!”