Written for winterhill for the 2012 yuletide. Originally posted at AO3.
It had been told that in the Days of Old, there was once a Great War between the Suidae and the Aves. The Suidae, in their insatiable hunger, had targeted the unprotected Aves and their unborn children. They had attacked relentlessly and heartlessly as they consumed all that they could acquire.
It had been a time that had been so dark and troubled that the Aves -both great and small- could not leave their eggs unattended for any amount of time for fear that the future generation would be taken from them by the Suidae who would devour them without any sense of remorse.
The Aves had acted in the only way they could, flying from location to location, hoping that the Suidae would not be able to track where they fled. Over the years, many eggs had been lost, along with the flocks of protective parents who had refused to leave them behind. But, in the end, the Birds had managed to find a place far from the Pigs which allowed them to provide a home for their young ones.
Birds of a different feather had congregated together -Red, Yellow, White, Black, Orange, Green and Pink- and they had built their safe haven. As the years passed, the population of the Aves had grown so much that their colony expanded far into the land. The original five -Red, White, Black, Blue and Yellow- had stayed in the heart of the colony and formed the Flock that had vowed to watch over the land.
Centuries passed. Throughout time, the wild Suidae had lost much of their wildness. The Pigs' pointy tusks had evolved into wide buckteeth, which were better for chomping grass. They had lost their drive to chase to Birds and settled for the green pastures that surrounded them.
The Birds had changed too, but for the better. Flocks that had once been frail and feeble due to lack of food and rest had grown into strong creatures that dominated the skies.
As time went by, the stories of the Great War had become legendary among the hatchlings. None of the young birds could imagine living in a world where fleeing from the Pigs was a way of life. Some of them laughed at their ancestors for running away from the fight while others weren't concerned about the things of the Past, because they were certain such a thing could never happen again.
Life moved on. Every once in awhile, one of the birds claimed to have seen a random Pig in a field toward the forest, but the Suidae never got close enough to their land to warrant concern. The Pigs hadn't been seen by any Birds in their colony for nearly a generation.
But then, one day, everything changed.
The Birds were out in the field, laughing and flying through the air, when one of them noticed several unusual spots of green dotting their landscape. Her sense of concern grew when she realized that these unfamiliar shapes weren't stationary; they were slowly making their way to where the Birds and their eggs were at.
By the time she realized what the round, bright green spheres were -pigs!- it was too late to save the majority of the eggs. The birds - Red, Black, Blue and White- stared at the empty nest as the Yellow bird looked back and saw who had taken their eggs.
The Pigs, laughing and snorting, were taking their young, frying pans in hand.
The leaders of the birds that were close enough to the incident congregated quickly to address what had happened. It did not take long to decide that they would not be like their ancestors of old.
They would not fly away, living in fear, hoping to one day outrun the Suidae.
No. This time, they would stand up and fight.
It didn't take long for them to find the Suidaen camp. The Pigs had hunkered down behind hastily crafted shelters made of wood, stone, and ice.
The elders gathered the birds together. A rainbow of feathers covered the hillside. The birds of the North -the flocks of the orange and the green- and the South -the giant reds and the pink birds- had yet to arrive, but the Birds knew they could not wait until their feathered brethren arrived to act against the enemy.
They knew that flying into these structures alone will not be enough. They were perhaps not built well, but they were made of materials that one bird could not move alone during a normal flight.
They fretted and pondered. They squawked and preened.
Then, a bird from the Red Tribe came forward with a sheet of paper tucked under his wing. He placed it on the nest that the elders were gathered around. They looked at the plans and then, to each other. Then, they let out a loud squawk that had the Pigs heard, would have frightened their porky insides.
It was time to build.
The Birds separated into groups. There were those who were building the Contraption, those who were training to use it, and those that who were watching the Pigs to make sure that they were not on the move-or trying to harm any more of their young.
It took precious time to make the Contraption correctly, but the Birds were patiently determined. They were going to build it sturdy and strong.
Finally, after days of hard work, the Contraption stood proudly in the sunlight. The birds chirped and sang as they examined it. Several eager Birds were ready to jump in and test it out, but the elders stopped them with their sturdy wings.
As elders, they had the responsibility -and the privilege- of testing it out first.
The Red elder settled himself into the Contraption first. Then, as if an imaginary force pulled him back, he readied himself as the target came into view. He closed his eyes and, with a loud cry, he flew into the air.
He hit the target's center.
The Birds behind him cheered. He barely had time to roll out of the way before the next elder -the Bomb bird of the West- came sailing in the air.
She, too, let out a cry. Then, in an explosion that shook the ground for several hundred yards, she landed.
The elders looked at each other and nodded.
They were ready.
These Birds were coming to take back what was rightfully theirs. And no pudgy Pig -not even the King himself- was going to stand in their way.