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Description

Nestor was still a wyngling when she went for that stroll in the forest. She was looking for some pretty plants again- although her most recent interest had turned to succulents. Those would have been nice to find. She picked her way through the woods, finding mostly mushrooms and poison oak, which she did her best to avoid. Leaves of three, don’t touch me, she would think to herself. That’s what Miss Alma taught all of the wynglings when educating them on the dangers of poison oak. She hummed as she walked.

*             *             *

                It had begun to grow darker by the time she started back for the Nook. She was hungry, and she had a feeling Miss Alma was cooking up something tasty.

                But then to her left she heard a rustling.

                Nestor stopped in her tracks. There were nothing but trees around her here, the forest was so thick. She looked over and about ten feet away there was a large, fan-like leaf drooping to the ground. It looked sad and wilting, and it hurt Nestor’s heart to see a plant suffering so. Had it been in her control, she would take the thing home and nurture it back to health. But such was life. She stared for a moment in melancholy.

                But then it shook and she knew that the leaf had made the rustling noise.

                She tensed up and her eyes became wide. Her little wings stood rigid and shook slightly, out of her control. The leaf continued to shake. It couldn’t be something dangerous, right? She took a deep breath and inched closer.

                She inched closer.

                She inched closer still.

                She inched so close that she could reach out and touch the leaf if she so dared.

                She dared.

                With a quick pat she struck the leaf and quickly sprung backwards, ready to face the dangers uncovered. She held her breath until she focused in on what had been in hiding, and what she saw she could not believe—

                …It was a wyngling.

                Small and grey, a male— much younger than Nestor; he seems to only recently have hatched. His skin was smooth and grey and fresh, and his eyes were a pale blue. His little round face looked fierce but not dangerous. Nestor just stared, not knowing what to say.

                The little wyngling just crouched there, seeming to want to shrink into the ground where he sat, trembling. His eyes were wider and more full of fear than Nestor could think possible. Her heart ached. She realized that he was like her—left alone at a young age.

                But at least Nestor had been taken to the Nook before she hatched, this poor little guy was all alone when he was born. And he was very afraid.

                “…H-hello,” she breathed, “My name is Nestor.” He only stared, a bit startled to see words coming from her mouth. She began to extend a paw out to him but quickly withdrew as he began to shrink back and breathe quickly, his little chest heaving in and out at a rapid pace.

                “I-it’s alright!” She began quickly, “I won’t hurt you! It’s okay…” She took a few steps back as well, keeping her body low to the ground in an effort to let him see that she was not a threat. She held her breath as they stared at each other like that, for what seemed like hours.

                This wyngling needed love.

5/105

Description

Nestor was still a wyngling when she went for that stroll in the forest. She was looking for some pretty plants again- although her most recent interest had turned to succulents. Those would have been nice to find. She picked her way through the woods, finding mostly mushrooms and poison oak, which she did her best to avoid. Leaves of three, don’t touch me, she would think to herself. That’s what Miss Alma taught all of the wynglings when educating them on the dangers of poison oak. She hummed as she walked.

*             *             *

                It had begun to grow darker by the time she started back for the Nook. She was hungry, and she had a feeling Miss Alma was cooking up something tasty.

                But then to her left she heard a rustling.

                Nestor stopped in her tracks. There were nothing but trees around her here, the forest was so thick. She looked over and about ten feet away there was a large, fan-like leaf drooping to the ground. It looked sad and wilting, and it hurt Nestor’s heart to see a plant suffering so. Had it been in her control, she would take the thing home and nurture it back to health. But such was life. She stared for a moment in melancholy.

                But then it shook and she knew that the leaf had made the rustling noise.

                She tensed up and her eyes became wide. Her little wings stood rigid and shook slightly, out of her control. The leaf continued to shake. It couldn’t be something dangerous, right? She took a deep breath and inched closer.

                She inched closer.

                She inched closer still.

                She inched so close that she could reach out and touch the leaf if she so dared.

                She dared.

                With a quick pat she struck the leaf and quickly sprung backwards, ready to face the dangers uncovered. She held her breath until she focused in on what had been in hiding, and what she saw she could not believe—

                …It was a wyngling.

                Small and grey, a male— much younger than Nestor; he seems to only recently have hatched. His skin was smooth and grey and fresh, and his eyes were a pale blue. His little round face looked fierce but not dangerous. Nestor just stared, not knowing what to say.

                The little wyngling just crouched there, seeming to want to shrink into the ground where he sat, trembling. His eyes were wider and more full of fear than Nestor could think possible. Her heart ached. She realized that he was like her—left alone at a young age.

                But at least Nestor had been taken to the Nook before she hatched, this poor little guy was all alone when he was born. And he was very afraid.

                “…H-hello,” she breathed, “My name is Nestor.” He only stared, a bit startled to see words coming from her mouth. She began to extend a paw out to him but quickly withdrew as he began to shrink back and breathe quickly, his little chest heaving in and out at a rapid pace.

                “I-it’s alright!” She began quickly, “I won’t hurt you! It’s okay…” She took a few steps back as well, keeping her body low to the ground in an effort to let him see that she was not a threat. She held her breath as they stared at each other like that, for what seemed like hours.

                This wyngling needed love.

5/105