“Look at the feathers,” she said, her voice softening a little. Either she was realizing that James really didn’t know, or she was just tiring out of being so confrontational. Either one would work for James. “There’s an order, see? No feathers are poking up from below. There’s a natural layer to things, and a direction. As you fly, they can get confused. The edges of some poke up. And if you really let things get out of hand, then you can get broken or even infected feathers growing with the good ones. Whoever told you that the bad feathers would just fall out from flying is wrong. And your wing there is proof.”