You are wet and cold and can feel splinters of bark inside your skin. It is dark. You do not know where the baby bird is. You cannot hear anything beyond a slight ringing in your ear. You are uncomfortable. You are a bit depressed. You are weak and tired.
The mud on the ground is cold and miserable. It feels as though an infinite number of tiny spikes are poking at you. it is relentless.
You search for the baby bird.
You see a tiny yellow coloration among the seemingly infinite pool of mud and awfulness.
It is faint.
The last thing you think about is how useless that turtle was.
You choose to…