~>Fury of the Wind<~ (A Bird RP)

A pigeon looked sadly at a ruined nest. He started taking a broken egg carefully out of the nest, laying it on a plastic bag to be transported to the floaty thing. Then, he noticed something under the dead mother’s wing. An unbroken egg!
 
A pigeon looked sadly at a ruined nest. He started taking a broken egg carefully out of the nest, laying it on a plastic bag to be transported to the floaty thing. Then, he noticed something under the dead mother’s wing. An unbroken egg!
“What’s that?” asked Pearl, who had landed beside the pigeon who was incidentally her brother. She drew in a breath.
 
“What’s that?” asked Pearl, who had landed beside the pigeon who was incidentally her brother. She drew in a breath.
The pigeon, Clam (XD) carefully rolled the egg out. “It survived because of its mother.” He muttered quietly.
 
Pearl felt heavy waves of maternal instinct rush through her. “I think I should take it home,” she said.
“Yeah, it’s not going to survive in the cold.” Clam said, completely missing what Pearl meant. He nudged her with a wing. “Hey, our mom woulda kicked us to the rocks, eh?” He said. “Eggs or not!” Clam had a bad habit of making bad jokes at the wrong time.
 
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“Yeah, it’s not going to survive in the cold.” Clam said, completely missing what Pearl meant. He nudged her with a wing. “Hey, our mom woulda kicked us to the rocks, eh?” He said. “Eggs or not!” Clam had a bad habit of making bad jokes at the wrong time.
"Yeah," Pearl said, suddenly leaping past him onto the egg and looking fiercely protective, ruffling her feathers. "Get something to carry this with. I'm not letting this mother's sacrifice going to waste."
 
"Yeah," Pearl said, suddenly leaping past him onto the egg and looking fiercely protective, ruffling her feathers. "Get something to carry this with. I'm not letting this mother's sacrifice going to waste."
“Oh, ok.” Clam said. He gave his sister a weird look, as if she had suddenly turned into a pizza. Except in that case he would’ve gave her a hungry look.
Anyway.
Clam flapped off to the small pile of cloth and plastic. He picked through it, finding the cleanest one to bring back.
“Clam, what are you doing?”
“Pearl’s found an egg!”
“Yeah, there’s a lot of eggs here.”
“No, I mean-”
“A scrambled egg?!” Another pigeon interrupted eagerly.
“No! An actual egg! Something that pops out of a nesty hen-”
“Clam, do you know where eggs come from?”
“Of course I-” Clam sputtered indignantly.
“Clam doesn’t know where eggs come from!”
“That’s not the point!” Once again, he had been interrupted, and he was starting to feel like a math teacher. “And I do know where eggs come from!”
Clam flapped away before he could hear anything else.
“Wait, Clam! What sort of egg?!” The original pigeon called after him, but he didn’t hear the inquiry.
 

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