It was an animal war scene. The crows preying on this injured baby myna after attacking its nest. The adult mynas doing flying karate kicks on the crows. AKs being fired left and right. Mines detonating everywhere.
Since it's my parents life-long dream to be a war veteran, my dad cooly told my mom to get in the crossfire. The process of R&E was conducted flawlessly by my mom. She walked with a limp straight into the red zone, like an injured general immune to life's bullets, (I wanted to type "like a cute mother penguin") with her eyes fixed on nothing but the helpless baby myna on the ground.
Now she's going to nurse it for a while. My cats and I are going to have an extra friend. She's feeding it with bread. My dad wants to name it Jack. They used to have 2 pet mynas named Nine and Ten. Hope I get to climb the small tree to return it to its nest.
As I'm writing this, I see a crow near my window ripping apart another baby myna. The raw meat looks like the $10 frozen boneless tenders at the supermarkets.
Well, now I'm questioning things again.
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