[Her delight could not be more clear if you blared it on a Broadway marquee. With zero hesitation Mabel reaches up and gently strokes along her back. The bird cocks a wary eye to her, but the beak stays shut. That's all it takes for her to fall in love.]

It's like I'm touching the feathers of freedom itself. [She whispers, reverent.] You're so beautiful...but I bet you're missing your hat, huh?

[A short grope inside her skirt pocket reveals the crux of their matter. Most of the muck is gone but it still stops short of presentable.] I cleaned it as best as I could but I didn't know how to do the feathers without breaking them. [And because it's less than perfect she hands it to Uruz rather than placing it on herself.] And if I had my bezzazle gun I might have thrown some extra bling on there for ya, but I left that back like...sixty galaxies away probably.