A Warbler's Flight

I saw a two-legged animal walking down the tough concrete pathway. It was walking upright, with an angry face. Its brows were wrinkled and I could see the white bones inside its mouth glimmer every time it spoke to the weird black rectangle it held by its ear. Such strange creatures, at times they come in packs—sometimes alone—with varying looks on their faces from joyful to remorseful. How strange, I never thought a face could stretch its muscles in such weird ways.

These strange animals wore a strange layer of skin on top of their real ones. They have hair like we do, and I do not know why they needed so much extra skin. Perhaps they are extremely sensitive to the world's natural weather, but it still confuses me so; One time I saw a small one running around a rectangular lake, naked, and it had circular puffs of rubber-like rings on its arms and waist. Maybe those were a special type of skin for the small ones? I thought before. But just yesterday I saw an even smaller one inside a big box with wheels at the bottom, it was wrapped up in so much extra skin that it couldn't even move!

As I carried on to my usual routine of surveilling my family's territorial border, I came across a large metallic structure, it was too silver for it to be a tree, not to mention—its leaflessness. My father told me to stay away from these structures, but I don't understand why. Sometimes, the animals in orange vests and yellow heads would leave food for me as I rest upon the cold scaffoldings which made up the strange structure. This one animal in particular, I think they call it a "Mark". The Mark usually carries around his small orange box, filled with triangle-shaped bread called "Sandwiches", he tried to give me one yesterday, but I respectfully declined his offer, since I preferred the small round and green balls which were usually on the bottom of a sharp pin in the middle of these "Sandwiches". I told the Mark to bring me more of those green balls, yesterday, and hopefully now, the Mark would give me more of those, I think my sister would like them if I brought some back home.

"Hey! You, the Mark. Have you brought me any more of those green balls I've told you to bring before?"

Ignoring me? Hm, Maybe it can't hear me since it's making such a loud noise on the floor. How could it even bare such noise? Even hearing it from this distance is enough to send me flying.

"Hey you! The Mark! Can you hear me?" I shouted.

"—Ah, I guess that's that. Hey Fisher!" Fisher? There's someone who fishes in here? The Mark stopped making that stupidly-loud noise, and it waved its hand at someone else. The animal who the Mark waved at seemed to have noticed and approached it, perhaps I needed to wave my hand as well for the Mark to notice me?

"Oh. You done with this? I'll call the crew in to place the cement, you can go ahead and have your lunch break."

"Ah—" The Mark sighed. "That'd be great, thanks Fisher."

"Hm. Don't overwork yourself now."

They were done conversing, and now was my chance to call the Mark. Now, let me just wave my hand and— "Hey! I'm waving my hand, can you come over here now?"

"Ohh! It's you again, wanna have lunch with me?" It spoke.

"Lunch? You mean eat? Yes, now give me more of those green balls from yesterday, hurry now, hurry!" I jumped around in circles, for I couldn't contain my excitement to eat more of those delicious food which he had offered to me before.

"Ah, well I guess I'll sit over here okay? D'you like my sandwiches yesterday? Sorry, I don't have any more of those... today I'll have—"

"No! Not those sandwiches, I want more of those small green things!"

The Mark opened its orange box, and for what I hoped to have been those small and green balls, I saw—

"—This! Hehe, whaddya' think? Here, don't be shy, eat up!"

What the Mark showed me was a big variety of yellow-looking worms. There were flakes of green leaves scattered all around it, and it smelled a little hot that it stung the inside of my nose. These worms were longer than normal, how much time did this Mark spend digging down the soil, and where could I find such large worms? Such strange looking worms though, they had no grey striped lines which spread throughout their bodies; these ones looked as smooth as the top of my little brother's beak! Did this Mark actually spend more time polishing them in smooth rocks? No, that would only soil them.

I was a little disappointed that the Mark ignored my request from yesterday, but I'm sure it had its reasons. Perhaps it's harder for his type of animal to acquire such food, what if only we could get them? Maybe that's the reason why he's hiding them from me.

"Here you go! Don't swallow it whole alright?" The Mark said as it gave me one healthy-looking worm. The Mark held the worm with two strange sticks, why couldn't the Mark just use its hands? Maybe it doesn't feel comfortable holding worms—but, if that were to be the case then it wouldn't be able to get them in the first place, not that it matters now. I guess I should have a taste.

I gulped it down in one go, and frankly, maybe I should've followed the Mark's advice to not swallow it whole. Usually, the worms I would eat were still alive, so I needed to gulp them down in one go so they won't wiggle their disgusting bodies on my lips, but these worms seemed to put up less of a fight—maybe they're already dead? Normally, I would feel weird eating something dead, but this— taste's strangely good! One of these worms would be enough to feed my baby brother for two days, I should ask the mark if I could bring some back home with me.

"Hey! Can I have more? I want my family to taste this, you can think of it as an apology from you, for not bringing me any more of those green balls from yesterday."

Ignoring me again? No, the Mark was just busy eating the worms in packs of five—no, six, as it slurped them all in one go. I don't know much about expressions, but his closed eyes squinted out of joy, perhaps it was happy from having so much food available.

"Why do you orange-animals always ignore me? Now that I think of it, everyone of you with the extra skins ignore me. Hello? Can you hear me? Maaaaark?"

"Mmhmm~ Oh— did you want more? Sorry little guy, here." The Mark said as it took out five, long gold worms from the red box. It placed them before my feet, as the Mark carried on eating the rest of the dead worms. I didn't expect this much generosity from him, I should thank this Mark by bringing it one of the thickest and longest worms I would find tomorrow morning! But, what should I do with these? I could only eat one more, any more than that and my small stomach would explode, and it's not like I could carry all five... I hope I don't disrespect the rest of the Mark's family, if I leave a couple of worms behind.

However, in the end, I ate one more, pinched two on my mouth, and carried one on each of my feet. It has been a while since the Mark had left, I didn't even notice it leave its seat beside me, perhaps I had been too focused on how to carry all these worms with me.

I could hear the same annoying sound again, and this told me that the Mark was back on that strange stick which destroyed the ground—wait, maybe this entire place is a factory for digging up more of those worms!? Is that what this structure is for? Father would love to know of this, perhaps we could move on the upper levels of the structure and start nesting there, and the Marks would give us more of these worms, then we wouldn't have to get out in the winter.

The worms wiggled back behind me due to their extreme length, as well as the ferocity of the wind that I flew against, I hope these worms have strong bodies, otherwise they would—

"Oh no!"

I lost my grip on the worm which I held at my left foot, and it fell from the skies, landing in the middle of the wide stone pathways, where the strong metallic animals with no legs rolled through. It rested peacefully on the white painted lines before the intersection, slightly beyond the poles which changed its lights from red, to green, to yellow, and then back to red. Is it even worth going down there to get one worm? It's a shame, but I'm going to have to leave it, only a madman would perform a suicidal feat in avoiding those strong animals as they try to grab one worm. I remember my uncle telling me the near-death experience he had with these paths, about two years ago, when he was flying low, early in the morning, as he skillfully dodged a big white and rectangular animal. I've always thought he was lying about the speed and tenacity of these animals, and I've always thought that he over exaggerated when he said that those two-legged animals were inside these even bigger animals, but seeing it closely now as I watched the fallen worm get crushed by the sheer size and power of said animals—I was inclined to heed my uncle's warnings, and respect him even more.

I left the worm alongside my lingering feelings of regrets for leaving it, but time was of the essence, I had to be back home before sunset. The world looked so big and tall from up here—not that it wasn't from below—I could see more of those similar structures in which the Mark lived in, I wonder where the Fishers mainly lived in? If I could find where, and if they gave food just like the Mark did, I would need to call in all my friends just to carry one big fish!

Passing through the "Residential Area", at least, that's what the sign as I entered said. Perhaps I should pay a visit to the "Auntie-Arna" who sits by her porch. The Auntie-Arna is undoubtedly a female, for what thing could produce such a lovely voice as hers? Though, a little awkward, for I don't know why she starts singing every time I try to talk to her. Maybe I should pay her for her services, for entertaining me, pay her with one of these worms, if I hid these which looked longer, she would take no offense when I give her the shorter one. Yes, maybe she would even give me something in return—just like back then.

   I landed on her home, which rested on the flat ground. I would think it was foolish to live on the ground with all the creatures that could prey on her, but these homes are strong. Not to mention, I once saw the Auntie-Arna fight off an intruder with her stick, appearances truly are deceiving.

"Hey you!" I yelled "As a reward for your entertainment, I would like to reward you with one of these worms. An animal called a Mark gave it to me, so it's still fresh." I lied as I placed the worm which I held on my foot, down on the surface of her wooden barricades. "Go ahead and feast upon it, Auntie-Arna! Consider it as a gift for your unwavering loyalty in protecting the great forest beyond from fierce intruders!"

"Ohh! You have returned, such a sweet little Cerulean Warbler you are, would you like to sing with me again?" She said, as she stood up from her curved seat which rocked back and forth.

"—Er, what? No. I just wanted to give this worm to you—" I was interrupted before I could even finish my sentence. "Ohh! How wonderful, your voice is as lovely as ever Mr. Warbler!" Auntie-Arna coughed shortly after. Before finally letting out the most mesmerizing tune anyone would ever hear in their entire lives. It soothed the outer layers of my ear which reverberated on the back of my skull, my stomach rumbled as my spirit was relit by the high-pitched waves of sounds which could be heard by the entire neighborhood if they listened closely enough.

"Listen, your voice is wonderful, but I really just wanted to give you this worm—"

"Yes, yes! Your voice is lovely! Keep singing!" She said abruptly, pausing her lovely singing, which I honestly missed for a second, but didn't as she started to continue singing once again.

"What? I'm not singing, I'm talking to you! Hey, stop singing and listen for a moment!"

  My futile command was futile indeed, for she kept singing, and singing, and singing—As I kept bickering, which negated the tunes of her lovely voice. I would continue to complain, but her tunes were so soothing that I was compelled to sing along with her. It would be disrespectful to decline a request to sing with someone any further if they kept egging on about it.

I coughed.

      ♪Late out in the trees—Sitting. Late out in the seas—Sailing. Late out in the skies~Soaring! My voice is but, for you, my darling... Deep down on the earths—crawling. Deep down on the rocks—chipping. Deep down on the rivers~Catching! The fish that is but for you, and, me. 

      The seas that glimmers with magic! The ground which gleamed with the green grass, from, below~ Oh, the mountains on the horizon, unreachable and unknowable, share me your secrets—I'm afraid that I have but rocks to offer, but Oh! Oh! Mountains, continue standing high—make the sunsets rise—make the sunrises set! Oh! Oh! Mountains, continue to be unraveled, continue to be undiscovered, for once you don't~ The men, of the world would d— ♪

My singing was interrupted by a loud bang, enough that it made my head ring and my vision to wobble left and right. If my ears could bleed—they would—what vicious thing would disturb my—our—wonderful singing session? Suddenly, I could smell the scent of smoke, but nothing was on fire. But it was something else which caught my attention; The Auntie-Arna's singing, it stopped. This was unusual, even something as disorderly as that, wasn't supposed to be enough for her to stop her beautiful tunes, but then, why?

I saw a two legged-animal who was extremely covered with extra skin—the extra skin was dark in color, which covered the skin of its face, and the rest of its body. It was holding up a small and strange piece of metal—it was smoking—but then again, there was no fire. The mysteries which held the answers on where the terrifying sound came from was revealed, as the cover-faced animal did something with its fingers which produced the same loud noise and smoke once again. I appreciate the act of wanting to be a supporting percussion in the song, but that beat was simply too loud.

At least, that's what I hoped on what the cover-faced animal did. As I heard a thud on my right, it was the Auntie-Arna, with her hand on her gut, and the other used to lean on the strong walls of her house. She was bleeding. But that understatement quickly vanished as I saw the Auntie-Arna use both hands to lean on the wall, trying not to fall over. Her blood was painted on the brown-plastered walls like a child's first time on a canvas. The blood on her hands marked the prints of her soft and delicate palms which shined red, and was later smeared down as she fell on the warm floors of her home. She was dying. I was left in utter shock, so much so in terror that I was left frozen, unable to take flight and flee from the scene. If there was a new creature which could kill its prey this quickly, I need to leave before I become next on its dinner menu.

The face-covered animal was trembling on both feet, as it quickly rushed towards us. I have thought that it would help the Auntie-Arna, but it simply walked over her, and even with its face covered—I knew that it was looking on the poor creature with disgust. It hovered its hand which held the strange device, and pointed it down at the Auntie-Arna, and with that, another loud bang sent me toppling over the wooden barricades. I fell, beak first, but it made a small thud which caught the predator's attention. I was foolish to come here, I never should have trusted these creatures to protect the forest beyond, and it was foolish for them to create their homes on the ground, where predators such as this cover-faced animal use as their hunting grounds. It noticed me, and looked at me with a blank face, despite having its face covered, I could tell. But what I noticed was the blood of the Auntie-Arna which had seeped deep into my wings. This is bad, this means that my feathers would stiffen up, and the scent from the blood would attract all kinds of trouble, but I supposed it doesn't matter. Shortly after the face-covered animal is done feasting on the Auntie-Arna, I would be next.

The cover-face animal looked on top of the wooden barricade intently, perhaps it was curious of the yellow worms which I laid to rest, before I sung.

As I slowly awaited death, perhaps fate had different plans in stored for me—or perhaps it was because of my sheer luck which made the predator happen to not feel peckish today. For the face-covered animal rushed inside the Auntie-Arna's home, completely ignoring me, I felt bad about it, but if she had any eggs or younglings in there, they would meet their end as well. But now was not the time to feel sympathy over her hatchlings, I have to get out—I need to get out—now that my luck has finally paid off.

It was difficult due to the thickness of her blood which soaked my wings dry, but I managed to fly away, leaving the bountiful gifts of the Mark behind. It was unfortunate, but I hope the Mark is still willing to give me some if I explain the incident that just occurred. I looked back on the house one last time, the Auntie-Arna was still laying there—dead—soaked in her own blood. She wasn't necessarily meaty, I don't know why the predators would come for her, I've seen more animals which were three or four times fatter than her, surely they would be easier to hunt due to their sluggishness, but—

Perhaps the reason wasn't for hunting, but if it wasn't for hunting, what other reason was there to hunt the Auntie-Arna? But then I saw it for myself, the face-covered animal was holding several leather-like boxes, as well as some ornaments which wasn't on its body just moments ago. They didn't look like eggs, or maybe that's what an Auntie-Arna's egg look like. I was slightly relieved, since I now know that the face-covered animal didn't just needlessly kill the Auntie-Arna, whatever those things it held were, I'm sure they has some in their own right.

One of those metallic-looking animals quickly made its way on the pathway in front of the house, and it was my first time seeing it open up and swallow another animal in whole. Or at least that's what I first thought that happened, because the face-covered animal seemed to have entered willingly, he also seemed to be fine and unharmed as soon as he entered the metallic animal. There was another face-covered animal on the left side, maybe they were from the same nest? They took off quickly, quick enough before I had the time to investigate and answer any of my questions.

The neighborhood was now quiet—empty—silent. So much that it was enough to tempt me to get back down and grab the worms. And I did, I don't know why, or perhaps I knew, but I was simply too proud to let this gift get away. As I landed back down the gruesome scene, the Auntie-Arna's blood was now even more spread out, like a puddle of dark-red, leaking from the steps to her home. Her mouth was slightly open, her eyes, lifeless. And the air was now filled with an unforgettable scent of bitter iron. But I had no time to grieve for another species' death, surely there were more Auntie-Arna's that could sing in her behalf, but still, it was a shame to lose her. I was quite fond of this one.

I don't even want to think of entering her home, up until now, it has always been closed every time I came here. Entering unannounced, and with no permission, and with the animal which lived in it—dead—anything inside the house would act with hostility to any outsider, even to a small creature such as I. I shrugged my small shoulders, and shook my round head in an attempt to return to my senses. And it did, as I quickly grabbed the worms which I placed down on top of the wooden barricade. But out of respect, and perhaps in tribute to her, I left the one which I previously offered as her gift. This was a foolish action, for it would probably get eaten by something else—but I was compelled to give my respects to the woman whose company gave me pleasure. And with that, I took off, back home, back to the nest, back to my family. Going back there would be foolish in my current condition, it would be wiser to wash up in the nearby stream to remove the scent of blood on my feathers, father is sure to give me an earful once I get home—But I'm scared, too scared. My flight faltered every five seconds or so, still in shock from the loud noises of the strange device of the face-covered animal, and I was reminded of the cruel truth about this wide and beautiful world. For it was also unfair, wicked and sick, but true.