Knowing your time has come and believing that nothing else should be given more time than you were given, you gnash your teeth together.
With a disturbing crunch, the baby bird is no longer a baby bird. It is now energy for you. Energy you will not be able to use since you are stuck under a tree branch.
The last thing you taste before losing consciousness is the bitter, metal taste of whatever leaked out of the baby bird.
You choose to…