It swings all the way outward, and gives you enough room to open the cage door and hold it out.
The little pretty bird peeps at you, hopping along its gleaming perch from side to side. When it’s happy with the line up, it leaps out, and flutters out of your grasp without looking back.
companion piece (after two months, heck) to this piece for @callmearcturus‘ fic chamomile