"I gave you the chance to name them," John points out unhelpfully. The moment's passed and the names are set in stone now, so that's too bad on Billy's part.

"Won't be needing those. They'll give everyone a headache." John pulls up his trouser legs at the knees and crouches down to rifle through his side of the box.

"Here. Feathers. Can you tell what type?" He pulls a fistful of them out. Some are in little plastic bags and others are just loosely in the bottom of the box. It might be just what he needs to get out of here.