Hesitant but allowing the turtle’s influence to take you, you cusp the baby bird in your paws. With one mighty swing, you launch the baby bird into the air.
It struggles, for a moment, to find itself and figure out its own wings.
It begins to flap its wings, desperately and with great energy.
For just a moment, it soars.
Before gravity gets the best of it.
And it falls.
And hits the ground.
Tiny spurts of tiny baby bird blood fling into the air and onto your face.
You choose to…
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