A King's Feather Salute

A flurry of brown wings suddenly erupted from the tin shelter! I braced my stance, ready to bellow an order, but the little sparrow didn't falter. It hopped vigorously atop the overturned can, shook its newly preened feathers, and launched into the noon sky. As it soared over the stone parapet, a single gray down feather drifted down, snagged neatly between my spiked wrist cuffs. Hmph! Leaving a royal tribute before taking flight, are you? I planted my claws on the stone coping and watched it vanish into the city canyons. You did well, soldier. The skies are yours!