Tall trees loomed over a small, thin orphan apprentice as he gingerly slunk along the borders of the massive kingdom among a labyrinth of greenery. His tired, bloodshot eyes settled on a particular object of interest, a large, ripe fruit sitting atop the wooden bin of freshly foraged berries and grain. He slipped through the lush ferns and greedily charged forth, taking the fruit into his talons and attempting to flee. He wildly flapped his little wings, before abruptly being stopped by a brute force that held him by his ankle. "Ah ah ah..." crooned the guard, a grin creeping onto his rosy face as he dragged the miserable creature out of his flight and held him upside down, shaking the bird and forcing him to let go of the stolen fruit, which tumbled to the ground.
As he was walking away to bring the little orphan to his fate, he slowed to a halt when he felt something hit his shoulderblade, which was the fruit slung back at him with great aim and force, and turned around, drawing out a stone wing razor. "Show yourself!" he demanded sternly, rage lacing his words, then he looked down to see another apprentice standing at the border, whom was the culprit. "You," he hissed, "You will be brought to DEATH for this injustice!" he roared, dropping the other bird to stalk after this apprentice. As he fell to the ground, he saw a wing reached out to him, in offering to help him to his feet. Bemusedly looking up, squinting at the silhouette of the other, smiling apprentice, he reached out and was pulled back up. "Come on!" the apprentice whispered to the orphan, beckoning with his neck and making a mad dash for the village. The little orphan followed behind as quickly as he could. They came upon a small den, the weaponry den; where they skidded to a stop on the other side. "You stay here where it's safe," the apprentice said, peering his head around the den to see if they'd been followed. Just as he expected, many guards were gaining quickly.
His eyes grew wide and he flew to the top of the den, hopping from one thatched roof to the next, and from that one to so on. He grappled his beak onto a low tree branch just above one of the dens and deftly hurled himself onto it. Some of the guards came clumsily tumbling off of the roofs as they attempted his extreme parkour, and a slight smirk touched his face. But as he was marveling at the result of his clever antics, two guards dropped from the high boughs of the tree and tackled the ususpecting bird off of his branch, sending all three barreling to the ground below. He hissed and bit, kicked and flailed, but his efforts were powerless against the brutes. He was forced to surrender now. What his fate would be he didn't know, and the thought of persecution sent a chill down his spine.
Suddenly, the grip on his scruff was loosened when the captors collapsed to their hocks to bow. Before them was their leader, in all of his magnificence and glory, his emerald feathers twinkling in the sunlight that loosely dappled the forest floor. "Your majesty," addressed one of the guards, "We have captured a criminal and await orders-" "You have no criminal," the leader boomed, interrupting the guard, who bemusedly stared up at him. "His attempt at saving the orphan was an act of incredible bravery and kindness, and one to be looked upon with respect, and not reproved," he said, then the large bird that he rode lowered to it's hocks. "Tell me boy, what is your name?" the leader asked, laying an intent gaze on the apprentice, whose jaw dropped slightly. "I-I-- My name is W-Wildpaw, sir." stammered the Apprentice in reply. "And who are your parents?" the leader then prodded. Wildpaw's eyes fell downcast and he murmured his answer, "Deceased, sir." "Come," said the leader, "You will be my son, and I will train you just as I have my blood sons." he declared. The guards could not believe their eyes, and neither could Wildpaw.
The memory played again and again in the head of the colorful rooster as he lay in the curve of a grand Oak tree's bough. He smiled to himself, a smugness lingering behind the grin.
