A Firm Grip on the Epaulet

Stiff plastic. Then... a pulse. My black claws tighten. Clack. Yellow shoulder trim, solid underneath. Good perch. High view. I tilt my head. Slowly. The pirate's bicorne hat sits right beside me, yellow brim glaring. I tap my red beak against the plastic brim. Tock! A crisp echo. The pirate stays completely still. Excellent. I grip firmer, feathers settling. I am steady.