10-03-2019, 04:29 PM
The little bird was a traveler. The never were great at staying in exactly one place at a time. Their father had always told them it was best to use their skills to better the lives of those around them. They ultimately wanted to help as many people as possible. It was normally hard to do that with so little people spread out over this huge jungle. Though, word spread far and wide. They heard word of a place where a whole lot of critters lived in one place. All at once! That sounded like a dream come true! The locals warned Charlie about the band. Heathens, they were warned. Unpredictable, vicious, blood thirsty. They couldn't be that bad, Charlie thought with a smile, gliding across the sun-scortched desert., They're probably just grumpy.
The small crowtit landed right at the treeline of the jungle, hopping from foot to foot on the hot, hot sand. They whined and winced, finally breaking down, taking to the air to perch on a fallen stump just over the forest line. Charlie whined, blowing air onto one of their talons before taking clutch of the stump. They fluffed them self up, shaking their head. No time to dawdle. Work had to be done. Charlie sighed, reaching behind them to unzip a tiny leather backpack strapped to their torso. They pulled out a large square of parchment with a large array of chicken scratch marks on it. They reached down, scratching a circle onto the page. Looks like all those cartography lessons paid off.
Well, they thought, wrapping the map back up and storing it away, Now they just wait for someone to say hi, correct? That's what they were told to do by the legends and locals. The crow tit sighed. They hated waiting. They wanted to work. More than likely, no one would even realize they were sentient. Charlie decided to rest, but stay alert.
The small crowtit landed right at the treeline of the jungle, hopping from foot to foot on the hot, hot sand. They whined and winced, finally breaking down, taking to the air to perch on a fallen stump just over the forest line. Charlie whined, blowing air onto one of their talons before taking clutch of the stump. They fluffed them self up, shaking their head. No time to dawdle. Work had to be done. Charlie sighed, reaching behind them to unzip a tiny leather backpack strapped to their torso. They pulled out a large square of parchment with a large array of chicken scratch marks on it. They reached down, scratching a circle onto the page. Looks like all those cartography lessons paid off.
Well, they thought, wrapping the map back up and storing it away, Now they just wait for someone to say hi, correct? That's what they were told to do by the legends and locals. The crow tit sighed. They hated waiting. They wanted to work. More than likely, no one would even realize they were sentient. Charlie decided to rest, but stay alert.