Red perched on a high branch of an oak tree, lost in his thoughts. The sun beat harshly down through the ancient tree's crown, the shadows of the leaves dappling the catapult below where Blue Bird was preparing to rain hot feathered death down on the unsuspecting pigs camped across the valley.
'Scoping out the enemy, soldier?' boomed Commander Chuck from behind him, startling Red from his reverie.
'Um.. Yes,' said Red. 'Sir!' he added quickly, remembering himself as the yellow bird bristled.
'You look like you're about to doze off,' barked Chuck. 'Are you going soft on me, soldier?'
Red eyed the higher ranking bird warily, hoping he was hiding the disdain for his bloodthirsty brother in arms. Then he came to a decision. He couldn't take it any longer - he had to make a stand. 'Sir,' he said, his voice catching in his throat, 'I don't want to fight your war any longer.'
Chuck was taken aback, but quickly recovered, shoving his beak into Red's face. He was breathing heavily, fury in his beady eyes. 'My war, private?' he snarled. 'My war? They took our eggs. Our goddamned children.'
Red sighed. 'I know, Commander, I know. But the thing is, they've never harmed a single one of them. In fact they've never really shown any malice towards us at all. It's almost as if... as if they're playing.'
Chuck stared at him, furious, lost for words.
'How many of them do we have to kill?' continued Red. If he was digging a hole for himself, he might as well get to the bottom. 'They've lost fathers, sons, brothers. And what have we lost? A few loose feathers.'
Chuck spat. 'Are you finished, boy?' he barked. 'You pull yourself together and get down there, quick-sharp, or it won't just be swine blood I spill today.'
'No, sir,' said Red finally. 'Kill me if you want, but I can't go on with this. I... I just don't feel so angry any more.'
And then he took off. He knew each unhurried flap of his wings could be his last, but that didn't matter now. He'd won his war.