"Ain't never seen no red birdfolk..." The widow eyed the feather and decided it probably didn't have any value before turning away to watch Aneja's tree-climbing suspiciously. She was too late to notice the swiftly palmed peach stones, and even she had to admit that Aneja could climb better than most of the farm hands.

The feather looked like nothing Zebulon had ever seen or heard of before, but nothing interfered with the spell this time. The monochrome of the spell settled over his vision, draining color from most of the world. The feather didn't lose color, though, remaining vivid scarlet in the orc's hand. Zebulon slowly scanned the rest of the special trees, but saw nothing.

Alexis found the feather to be beautiful, and too large to have come from an ordinary bird, but beyond that there was nothing else she could deduce from it.