A Feather on the Loose

Ticklish? You wish. I slithered completely free of that contraption and hopped straight down onto the table to prove a point. Right next to an open sewing tin, I snatched a long, fluffy feather that had slipped out of a pincushion. I gave my ribs a defiant test swipe with the quill tip—not a single flinch. But the stray down drifted straight up my nose, and I let out a sharp sneeze that sent a cluster of buttons rattling everywhere. Alright, fine. Maybe that counted as a reaction.