Yellow
When the winter came, Fakir took time out of his writing to weave his first basket as a welcoming gift for Ahiru as she spent the cold months inside. He could still remember the way her big blue eyes watered as he presented it to her. It wasn't perfect, by any means—it was lopsided, and some areas were looser than others, but she loved it all the same. Ahiru showed every ounce of her gratification every night by snuggling up inside the blanketed basket, covering her head with her wing and giving light snores. He'd place the basket, sleeping duck and all, on the desk next to his bed every night before turning in for sleep.
One day when Fakir was changing sheets, a small yellow feather fell out from his pillow case and fluttered to the ground.
He picked it up, his brows furrowing as he turned it around by the quill between two fingers. But ultimately he put it in his pocket and forgot about it as he resumed his cleaning. Maybe Ahiru was finally starting to molt.
But then it happened again, months later. Fakir lifted the quilt to get into bed and found not one, but three feathers spread out over the mattress. He glanced at Ahiru, but she was already snug in her little basket and fast asleep. Shrugging, he crawled into his own bed and slept.
It continued to happen. Fakir could never find feather strung about in any other corner of the house, but every night when he went to bed he would check and there would always be at least one little yellow feather, without fail. Was Ahiru sleepwalking? That would explain why he never caught her anywhere near his bed, since he would have been asleep as well.
One night he decided to stay up and write, not taking to the bed until it was nearly three in the morning. Ahiru hadn't budged from her basket, and there were no feathers in his bed the next day.
The next night he stayed awake in his bed, rolled over to one side. At midnight he could hear her stirring in her basket, and in the next moment she hopped out and waddled over to the edge of the desk, before jumping down and making herself right at home next to his head on the pillow. Fakir waited for her to continue her episode of sleepwalking, but she stayed right there for a few hours, snoring lightly by his ear.
He waited until the next night to make a move. Just as the day before he rolled over in his bed, facing away from his desk, and waited. Just as before he heard her stirring before she got up and waddled, hopping off the desk and onto his pillow.
Except this time he rolled right over to face her, an amused look on his face.
"Caught you."
"QUAAAA—!"
Ahiru fell off the bed.