Trev Scabior sold his scruples for a galleon. (opportunist) wrote in wished,
Watching the feathers float down, Trevor huffed and puffed to blow them out of his face. "...Cheers," he thanked her, flicking another off his shoulder as he sat up. "'Ate those things," he grumbled as he climbed back onto the comfy couch, yawning again. "Beaky castards," he grabbed at the blanket again and wrapped it around himself.