The Wizard, The Ogre And The Birds

                All was quiet in the titanic stony hallway of the gubernatorial palace. A group of birds were standing on the windowsill, peacefully soaking up the morning sunlight and occasionally hopping from stone block to stone block, having a fairly harmonious and wonderful time of it. They were rather like sparrows, with sparrow-like heads, very similar beaks, and an identical poly-brown colouring, but were most definitely not sparrows.
                After the sparrow-like birds had been enjoying the manifold wonders that a corridor windowsill has to offer for a short while, their leader, the boldest and most magnificent of them all, cocked his head and ceased all hopping. There was a sound in the distance, coming from the depths of the house; the heartbeat of the building itself. Gargantuan ventricles flexed and pumped, pushing the vital essence of ‘home’ into those deepest and least trodden corners which were tucked into the shadows. The heart was beating, and it was getting gradually harder and harder. Another of the birds noticed that the leader was distracted and listened out too, then another noticed, and another. Soon, all the not-quite-but-still-very-much-like-sparrows were standing perfectly still with tipped heads, listening to the sounds of the building.
                From the bowels of the house they could hear the pulsing rhythm. It had grown from a quiet beat to a deep thud and then a juddering boom, laden with an urgency that only ogrish feet can convey. The windowsill shook with every step and the birds fluttered in time. Their eyes were transfixed on the door at the end of the hallway, with its smaller inset door sitting at the bottom, like a babushka doll for the gate industry. A second rhythm drifted into their ears, a second heartbeat, coming from a heart much tinier and faster. A heart which surged through fear, and not through anger.
                The not-quite-sparrows knew what was about to happen all too well, and it made their tiny sparrow-ish chests swell with anticipation. The two pulses grew louder together and the doors rattled harder with each beat, shaking on their hinges in fear of what was to come.
                BOOM – rattle – step – step - BOOM – rattle – step – step – BOOM – rattle – CRASH.
                A young man burst through the smaller door, sending it flying open and rebounding on its hinges. He stumbled through gracelessly, and continued sprinting as fast as he could. If going as fast as he couldn’t had been an option, then he would certainly have done that instead. The young man was dressed in bright red robes, with a long pointed hood flailing in the turbulent breeze behind him. His clean shaven face was in the midst of a violent civil war, with fear and amusement vying against one another for ascension to the throne of expression. The really-quite-like-but-seriously-not-identical-to-sparrows whistled and chirped in excitement; the wizard was at it again, making a mockery of coexistence.

                Having humans and ogres living in the same settlements had been a painful process in itself, but having them living within the same residences was like pulling the teeth of a horse whilst someone was trying to make it drink some water to which it had been recently led. Surprisingly, the mainstay of the resistance against cohabitation came from the ogres, as opposed to the humans on whom they had historically fed. By virtue of repeated debates, requests and campaigns, however, the answer gradually transformed from “Never” to “No” to “Oh alright, but you’re doing the washing up.”
                The building in which the pseudo-sparrows were watching the wizard flee was one of the flagship cohabitation sites – a building designed to accommodate both ogres and humans together. There were two of everything, in both human and ogre sizes. Small steps were built between each ogre stair, a little human sink sat underneath the ogre sink, and the human sized toilet stood in the shade of a lavatorial monument to the bodily functions of the ogre. Arguments that the two toilets could easily have gone in separate rooms, or at least not been right next to each other, were fended off with vague accusations of bigotry and toilet-shaming.
                The gubernatorial palace had been an obvious starting place for the first cohabitation. With elected officials from the human demographic, and the ogre who could fit the greatest number of books into his mouth (who was therefore the cleverest and most worthy of leadership) living together, it would symbolise the era of growing integration and diversity by direct example. The conflicts raised by the human governor’s books being made suspiciously soggy after the ogre governor went for a think were surely just teething issues. As were the antics of Elias, the ogre governor’s court wizard, or so went the hopes of everyone involved.

                Throwing salt, sweat and sugar in the face of those hopes, Elias raced through the hallways of the palace. The small bundle he was clutching close to his chest made him run a little bit like a crimson chicken, which only made the birds more enthusiastic about his plight. The slapping of his feet on the stone floor was now harmonised with his own wheezing breaths, and his head flinched with every shuddering boom of the ogre’s footfalls behind him. A cataclysmic storm was chasing him, harassing him without a second’s respite. The mightiest thunderclap of all sounded from the doorway in a spray of wooden fragments. Splinters rained onto the wizard as the door was vaporised in the ogre’s rage. Elias nearly dropped the bundle as he lifted a hand to cover his head, and was nearly thrown to the ground himself by the guttural, furious roar which followed.
                “Get back here, you shit!” The words echoed menacingly through the corridor.
                “No!” Elias shouted back, matter-of-factly.
                “Wh- yes!”
                “No. I’m not getting dragged into this back-and-forth nonsense. Just no.”
                “YES!” the ogre bellowed, ignoring the point that Elias was trying to make and pressing on after him. His name was Ungok, and he didn’t like being disobeyed. That went doubly for Elias because it happened so often; the familiarity was no comfort at all.
                The wizard pounded along the passageway and left Ungok’s reply unchallenged. Elias knew from experience that reasoned debate would get him nowhere – magic was a far better tool for persuading Ungok to give up the chase. He shifted the weight of the bundle onto his left arm and held his right arm slightly to one side. A blue glow formed quickly in Elias’ palm and he leapt into the air, flicking the blue irradiance into the floor below him. Elias turned to look behind himself as he landed, and saw the ogre’s colossal foot splash into the stone floor as if it were a thick soup.
                “UGGH” Ungok cried as he sank into the ground. The stonework clung around his ankle like treacle and made it impossible to run. Elias was getting away. The birds approved of this very much, and gave little chirps of celebration.

                “Sorry! It’ll wear off in a few hours!” Elias shouted. “At least, I think it will.” He added to himself. Elias wasn’t the most skilled wizard in the world, not by a long shot, but he was cunning, cunning enough to convince an ogre to take him into his employ. In absolute terms, this meant he was of slightly-below-average cunning or more.
                Ungok angrily waded his way to the solid edge of the puddle with alarming haste.
                “You won’t stop me, Elias. I’ll get you.” He threatened, losing some of his natural intimidation by being ankle deep in viscous paving.
                Elias spared a glance back and saw Ungok heaving himself free of the quick-stone, balancing himself on the wall to better lift his legs. The wizard pointed his palm towards the ogre and a shockwave rippled through the air, knocking Ungok off balance and planting both of his feet firmly back into the stone. Elias then bravely fled around a corner in the passage, missing some of Ungok’s best cursing of the day.

                The quasi-sparrows fluttered away and re-perched on a windowsill at the corner, to better see the continuing action. One of the birds whistled that Elias would win as usual, and no-one else voiced an opinion to the contrary. To do so would mean a great divide in the flock for many minutes, and none wished to cause such mayhem so lightly.

                The slapping footfalls of the wizard resumed, followed shortly by the thundering stomps of the ogre – much sooner than Elias had hoped. Ungok was getting stronger and more agile each time he chased; the wizard’s game was getting ever more dangerous, but also more thrilling. Soon the enraged beast would be able to test him to the limit of his abilities, and Elias would have to find a new way to amuse himself. The wizard clicked his fingers to spark a flame and traced lines of fire across the corridor as he ran.
                Ungok slammed bodily into the back wall of the corridor, scattering the birds from the window, and turned to continue his pursuit. He charged into the flames, singeing his eyebrows and burning his face. Rather than slowing or attempting to avoid the fire, Ungok lifted his arms in front of his face, to shield it as he pushed through the flaming traces. The fires sparked and flared across his skin, stinging him and stoking his anger further, but they didn’t deter him.
                Elias turned back and despaired that the flames hadn’t slowed Ungok down at all. If anything, he was now moving faster to bull-rush his way blindly through the fire.
                “Not my finest work.” Elias muttered to himself, mulling over the evolutionary implications of a creature which accelerates into pain.

                The leader of the sparrow-like birds gave a clicking chirp, which roughly translated to “Not his finest work by a long shot. Maybe the ogre will finally best him.” It was a controversial U-turn of the party line, and murmurs from the rest of the flock alluded to that fact.

                “Stop running! I’m going to do you such mischief when I get you.” Ungok shouted through his arms.
                “You’re really not convincing me to stop, you know.” Elias panted back.
                “I’m convinced I’m going to break you!”
                “You see, it’s exactly that kind of thing I’m talking about. Threats and insults won’t motivate me to help you.” Elias goaded helpfully. He accentuated his point by waving his hand high into the air. When he swept it back down, it was accompanied by a vast wall of water, which shot along the corridor at Ungok and bowled the ogre over onto his back.
                As Ungok gurgled a further threat, Elias pushed himself to keep going. He felt like he was no longer in control of his legs; they were sprinting in line with their own private agenda and he just happened to be getting taken along for the ride.
                “You’d better not discard me as ballast” he muttered to them. “I’m all that holds you together – you’ll literally fall apart without me.” His legs made no counter-argument, and whilst it was possible that they were out of breath, Elias took it as a sign of their agreement. The wizard found it comforting to know that he had the support of his system of ambulation.
                As Ungok clambered soggily back onto his feet, Elias took a moment to recognise that his ears were also playing their part admirably; delivering messages to him from Ungok and reminding him of why he was running. Many of these continued along the lines of “I’ll smash you” or “I’ll crush you” or in one case “I’ll undercook you a chicken casserole”, which doesn’t sound quite so terrifying, but really would be quite unpleasant. Elias ricocheted off the stone wall ahead to round another corner and entered the spiral staircase. A few seconds later, the whole building shook as Ungok did the same, with an accompanying BOOM. The ogre was catching up yet again.

                The approximately-but-not-exactly sparrows flitted to a window in the spiral staircase just ahead of the wizard and the ogre. The leader tweeted to suggest that “The ogre is starting to win, he’ll finally catch the wizard. The Early Bird has become The Worm”.
                The other birds screeched in bewilderment. To suggest such a reversal was shocking to the point of extremism. The wizard, the eternal Early Bird of song and legend would surely win, as he had done for time immemorial; their leader had abandoned his principles and his beliefs at the slightest sniff of societal change, or so came the claims from another of the almost-indistinguishable-from-sparrows. The leader turned to face his adversary and puffed his tiny chest up, daring her to repeat those words to his face. The upstart stood her ground, and fluffed up the feathers on her head whilst chirping her accusations again. With almost no tweeting at all, the other birds gently hopped and flitted into camps beside their favoured champion.
                ‘Time will tell’ the leader sang menacingly.

                Elias was airborne, propelled forwards by his automated legs as the stairs fell away beneath him. With his free arm, he lashed out and grabbed the banister, swinging himself onto the top of the rail with a heavy impact and sliding down on his chest. His bundle rattled and clinked as he wavered and wiggled for balance on the narrow handrail, and his inner child was utterly thrilled with how the situation had turned out. Looking up, he saw a flash of Ungok’s unbridled rage appear through the doorway before he slid around the bend.
                Like rolling thunder, Ungok hounded Elias down the stairs. He crashed down the steps in pursuit of the makeshift-slide enthusiast, a boulder of livid flesh spitting venom and making a mockery of the health and safety risk assessment carried out mere days before. The wizard threw himself off the banister as he neared the bottom and dashed away. As he barged though the human’s door, the hinges swung his support away and he stumbled. His legs elected that this was the perfect time to return control to him, but Elias singularly failed to give them sufficient instruction and he crashed into a heap on the ground. Quickly, Elias span to face the door and fired an icy wind towards it, freezing the doorway shut. The icy colour didn’t match the rest of the décor at all, and the gloss was ruined, but the concussive impact which immediately followed indicated that the impromptu redecoration had been worth a day of re-painting.
                Suddenly, everything was quiet. Elias was exhausted from the relentless pursuit and the exertion of casting so much magic. He crawled to a nearby chair and pulled himself up to his feet, noticing as he did so that nearly the whole serving staff of the palace were staring at him. He had burst his way into the main banquet hall during the preparations for lunch, which is not the most subtle endeavour to which to commit oneself. Embarrassed, Elias straightened his robes and his bundle, and stood up to full height, still drawing ragged breaths but in a much more stately fashion. It was difficult to freeze a door shut in blind panic and then command the respect of a room, but Elias felt like he was achieving it. Half of the birds which had landed on the windowsill disagreed.
                “Be” - pant - “about your” - pant - “business” he managed. Many of the servants’ gazes still lingered on the exhausted wizard, most of them with an unimpressed or derisive edge. Elias - arrogant Elias - had been up to his usual tricks and enraged the ogre; they all knew it, and they would all pay for it when Ungok’s foul mood descended upon them.
                “I’ve half a mind to poison his next meal if he keeps this up” one of the servants muttered to another.
                “You’ve got half a mind, alright.” the other servant shot back “He’s a wizard! You’ve seen what he does to Ungok, and you want to bring that on us by poisoning him, you fool?”
                The first servant gave a reproachful look “Someone’s got to stop him causing all this havoc for no reason. If you’re a coward then that’s fine but I’m not going to stand for it much longer.”
                “There are plenty of chairs around; you can sit for it.” Elias said, loudly. The servants turned white and still, petrified by Elias’ notice. He was standing barely a few feet in front of them.
                “You knew I could hear you, right? I’m literally standing here watching you talk – why in the gods’ names did you think that was subtle enough to get away with?”
                The servant had no reply except terrified silence.
                “Look, I’m not going to hurt you, but really you need to learn when not to insult people. Exercise the half of a mind you do have.”
                The servant made an attempt to reply, but was interrupted by the banquet hall doors flying open in a spray of ice. A positively incensed Ungok stamped his way into the hall, his eyes focused intently on the wizard.
                “ELIAS! GIVE ME BACK MY SOCKS!” he bellowed, his cacophonous demand filling the hall. “Out of here.” He told the servants forcefully.
                The serving staff slowly filtered towards the various exits of the hall.
                “NOW!” the ogre added, to better convey the urgency of his request. The remaining serving staff ran for the doors.

                ‘Elias needs to run, he is a fool. Ungok has him now.’ The leader of the easily-mistaken-for-sparrows cheeped.
                ‘He will still defeat the ogre. The Early Bird will remain so.’ The upstart riposted. The feathers of both birds stood on end.
                ‘You will eat your words like stale crumbs scatted near an old man’s bench.’ The leader declared defiantly.

                “I don’t think you’ll want your socks like this – they won’t fit you anymore.” Elias told Ungok caringly whilst backing away. “Let me borrow them for the night and I’ll have them replaced by morning.”
                “I’LL HAVE YOU REPLACED BY MORNING, YOU THIEF!”
                “Nonsense. You’ll have forgotten all about this because of all the presents I’ll have left you. Socks without number! Socks beyond your wildest dreams” Elias said with a confident smile “and I know you have some pretty wild dreams about socks.” he added with a nod.
                “Are you trying to be clever, wizard?” Ungok growled through bared teeth.
                “Oh, no. I’m not trying at all, it just seems that way because you’re so stupid.” Elias explained cheerfully.
                Ungok’s nostrils flared at Elias’ impertinence and he started shaking with rage, still pacing gradually forwards. “I am firing you as my advisor, Elias.”
                “As your official advisor I’m afraid I have to advise against that. In fact, I need to veto it - sorry. Nothing we could do.”
                “Y- ugh, damn it all.” Ungok spat back, defeated. It was largely due to Elias’ power of advisory veto that he was still in Ungok’s employ – he would otherwise have been despatched seven firings ago, a couple of days after his appointment as court wizard.

                ‘Ungok still falls for the old tricks – Elias has won already.’ the upstart whistled.
                ‘Elias is not away yet, fledgling.’ The leader patronised back.

                “I order you to give my socks back, or I will bash you.” Ungok grumbled, beating his fist into an open palm.
                “You know, other governors would think that surely, being a wizard of at least moderate intelligence, I would understand what a bashing was without the use of mime. Clearly you, Ungok the scholar, are not like other governors.” Elias observed.
                “You mean to make light of me? I am the cleverest of all the ogres!”
                “Your soggy library certainly stands as a testament to something, but I’m not convinced it’s your intelligence.”
                “Shows what you know, wizard. Now give me my socks!”
                “I already told you, Ungok; you don’t want them back just yet, they’re of no use to you for now.”
                “They’re of use for keeping my feet warm, human. Are you so stupid that you don’t understand what socks are for?”
                “Are you so stupid that you don’t understand what rubies are for?” Elias fired back, opening his bundle. Ungok stopped dead in his tracks and stared at Elias – the wizard was holding a bedsheet stuffed full of rubies, each one in the shape of a tiny sock.                 “What did you do with my socks?!” Ungok screamed, rather more animated about clothing than precious stones, for reasons wholly unknown to everyone else in attendance.
                “I transmuted them into rubies. I’ll buy you some more tomorrow once I’ve sold these, I promise.”
                “Trans…moo… what?”
                “Like this” Elias said, waving a hand towards Ungok. The ogre felt a most peculiar sensation across his torso, as if his waistcoast had gained an awful lot of weight and begun massaging him by way of apology. He looked down at himself and saw that Elias had transmuted his waistcoat into an incredibly energetic group of spider monkeys.
                “Argh!” Ungok flinched and twisted. The spider monkeys leapt away from his body and scattered themselves around the banquet hall, leaping across the tables, perching on the chairs and knocking all sorts of cutlery onto the floor. The curtains were quickly afflicted with a severe primate infestation.
                Ungok looked strangely pained when he turned his gaze back onto Elias.
                “I liked that waistcoat.” He said. The ogre’s anger had dissipated in a puff of bereavement.
               

                Tensions ran high on the windowsill. The rival factions were split cleanly apart from each other, with their chosen champions standing at the fore. Tiny, adorable eyes, which one could be forgiven for thinking belonged to a sparrow, were flitting between the unfolding conflict in the banquet hall and the political titans locked in debate with one another.

“Ungok stands broken and defeated, ye of little faith. You abandon the old ways and see yourself proven wrong immediately.” The upstart sang, her notes echoing around the banquet hall.

                “Elias has not fled – he is not away. He goads the ogre but has not been able to escape or vanquish his pursuer. He is buying time since he knows he is backed into a corner.” Chirps of approval rang out from the pro-Ungoks. Furious whistles assailed the leader in response.

                “Look at the signs in front of you! Ungok has abandoned his attack, he is beaten and even he knows it! You were wrong, old man, trying to win us over with shock and inflammatory words. We have seen through you, and we will follow you no longer!” Stunned silence enveloped the flock – a challenge had been laid down, an ultimatum which surely meant civil war.
                “Strike me down if you can, fledgling.” The leader replied, impassively accepting the invitation to defend his position. The two champions launched into the air, miniscule talons raised and beaks clacking death to one another.

                A pang of guilt shot through the young wizard. He could feel the disapproving gazes of the creatures who, up until recently, had been Ungok’s clothing bearing down on him.
                “I… I’m sorry. Look-” Elias took off his own cloak and transmuted it into an exact replica of the ogre’s waistcoat, then tossed it gently to Ungok. “No hard feelings?”
                “Oh… well, no I suppose not.” Ungok turned the waistcoat over in his hands. It was indistinguishable from the pre-monkey garment he had been wearing, except that it had an elegant nametag sewn into the collar, and there was a pair of socks in the pocket. He looked back up to Elias. “Thank y- hey, wait! GET BACK HERE!” The wizard had turned towards the exit and taken off at a run.

                The staggeringly-similar-to-sparrow combatants were high above the human-ogre transmutation drama, darting and dive-bombing between the ceiling rafters. Razor beaks tore at wingtips; needle talons swiped and gouged at little faces; vicious words were exchanged in beautiful melodies. A gentle thunderstorm of feathers rained down onto the banquet hall in sleepy arcs, each one drifting backwards and forwards, gracefully and slowly.
                The leader fluttered above and in front of the upstart, then swooped in a wide loop around her as she zipped forwards to thrust her beak into his chest. He completed his arc with talons extended, driving them towards the side of her skull, but she ducked her head at the last moment. It wasn’t enough to avoid the blow entirely, but he only grazed her, and she sent him glancing away off-balance with a clawful of feathers. As he tried to regain control, she was back on top of him, pecking sharply at his face. The leader flapped and fluttered his tiny wings, swinging his head this way and that to avoid the hail of blows. Each one came closer and closer to contacting him. He wasn’t fast enough to avoid them for much longer; she was younger and more agile, much more dangerous than he had given her credit for. The upstart swung her legs up and grabbed two clumps of feathers on the leader’s chest, in order to hold him still and ensure that her next blow would land. Desperately, he threw his head back and attempted to dive away, but she was holding him too tightly and flapping too firmly. With his head tilted that far back, he noticed the rapidly approaching beam, mere inches away. She didn’t.

                “Just enjoy your waistcoat and monkeys! I’ll be back tomorrow with all the socks you could desire.”
                “YOU’RE A THIEF! I WILL PUT AN END TO IT!”
                A human-sized chair soared terrifying quickly over Elias’ head and smashed into a table in front of him.

                “You’re certainly putting an end to the furniture, but I’m not sure how that’s going to help.” Elias mocked. He turned round slightly, and began throwing spells back at Ungok. Bolts of fire and ice sprayed from the wizard’s hands, shattering on the walls and furniture around the ogre. Another chair came catapulting towards Elias’ head, erupting into a ball of flame as it collided with one of the spells in mid-air.
                “You’ll have nowhere left to sit at this rate!” Elias laughed, but he soon ceased to see the funny side when an ogre-sized banquet table crashed to the ground behind him, the wreckage carrying its momentum forwards in an avalanche of fine carpentry. The tsunami of oak rolled into Elias’ legs, tripping him and sending him tumbling down. Ruby socks spilled over the ground and excitedly-whistled gasps drifted over from the windowsill.
                “AHAHA, I’VE GOT YOU NOW!” Ungok pointed out, uselessly. Elias was quite aware that he had been ‘got’. It was exactly what he had been trying to avoid, so his level of got-ness was not something that anyone else needed to explain to him at all. Ungok stood over the dazed and injured Elias, and lifted him by the front of his shirt.
                “No more running for you, little wizard.” His face contorted into a spiteful grin.
                “I hope all that talk of mischief and bashing” Elias groaned “was metaphorical. Just rhetoric spouted in the heat of the moment?” he posed tentatively.
                “You think you’re a real clever guy, Elias. If you’re so clever you must have a lot of books in you, but I bet I’m cleverer. Shall we see how much of you I can fit in my mouth?”
                Luckily for Elias, the meeting of the minds which Ungok had called for was cut short – a dull thud punctuated Ungok’s departure from consciousness as a pair of tiny birds slammed into the side of his head.
                Elias dropped to the floor, among the fragments of tossed furniture. He hurriedly clambered back to his feet and quietly wondered why there were small birds dive-bombing around the banquet hall. After gathering up the fallen socks, he saw the pair of them on the ground nearby and couldn’t help but feel indebted to them – there was no way he could just flee now and leave them there, injured and in danger. Elias glanced over Ungok; seeing that he was still breathing but not likely to wake just yet, he picked his way between the splinters of furniture and gently cupped the little birds in his hands.

                ‘I was wrong; proven so by my own interference.’ The leader thought. He feebly tried to chirp to his people, but his voice failed him. ‘He will strike me down as one of the ogre’s supporters, I can feel it. Curse my pride, I have doomed myself to this! I only hope that those who stood loyally beside me are allowed to remain free.’
                ‘We are here in your name, Early Bird. Thank you for letting me join you in one last chase for The Worm before I am undone’ thought the upstart. She was badly injured – bones broken and bleeding from her wounds - and would not be able to escape. She knew that she was done for, but took solace in the fact that she was with The Early Bird and had been right to stand by her convictions.

                “Poor little things. What are you? Not sparrows, that’s for sure.” Elias said softly “You saved me, but if I hadn’t put that ogre in your way then you would never have been hurt. Don’t worry though, I’ll fix you up; it’s the least I can do to repay you.” A pale blue light welled in his hands and shrouded the avian gladiators, re-fusing bones and stitching rent flesh. In a matter of seconds, the astoundingly-good-impression-of-sparrows looked as if they’d never seen battle in their lives.
                Elias admired his handiwork, then set the pair down on a table.
                “You two rest here for as long as you need to and then get on your way.” He said, then without looking back he ran for the door.
               

                “The Early Bird is merciful, and The Worm has been ‘got’. I was wrong to waiver – perhaps my pride has begun to cloud my judgement.” The leader said with a note of melancholy. He turned to address the upstart directly. “I feel that a change in leadership is in order. I willingly submit to you – you are a fledgling no more.”

                “I gladly accept the honour and the title. I will do all I can for the good of the flock.” She said gracefully.
                “It warms my heart to hear. I will go now, without argument or resentment. Good fortunes be with you, and may you always rise early to get your worms.” The former leader hopped towards the edge of the table and prepared to take off.

                “The Early Bird was merciful, and so I must be, too. You led us away from harm for all this time; please, I would consider it a great favour if you would stay with us. You have wisdom and conviction which I would grieve for, were it lost to us” the new leader called after him.

                ”You mean to say, there is room in your flock for a foolish old coot like me?”
                “Room enough and worms enough for us all.” The sound of her chirp was reassuring and her tail feathers wiggled happily.
                “You do me a greater service than I deserve – I will neither turn nor let you down.”
                The birds then rose together, as they had fallen together moments earlier, to mend the rift in their society. Unification and cohabitation were surely possible; one battle at a time.

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