Snatching the feather from her, Mal quirked an eyebrow. "I believe the term in this case would be repossession not stealing," he pointed out dryly.
Frowning, he looked down at the cause of his trouble, running it between his fingers a few times. It felt...strange. "This isn't mine," he said slowly, turning it over in his hand, then bringing it closer to his face for further scrutiny.
Shrugging, he handed it back to her warily. "It may have belonged to a relative. One of my parents, probably. Seeing as they aren't around, it probably reached out to the creature most closely related to the blood of its original owner."
Of course, he was really just guessing. It sounded plausible, though.