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Summary
Fresh off a panic attack, Rey takes in a self-plucking parrot with a dirty mouth.
~The parrot is crammed into the back corner of the supply store where the vents are loudest and the ceiling mildewed. He’s wearing a chipped plastic bite collar and less than a third of his dark feathers.
The rest are arrayed on the floor of the cage in a pitiful, dirty pile.
As she approaches he ducks away, shy. Trembling, hiding his face in the worn tarp that covers the cage.
“Are you a pretty bird?” she asks.~