A long, triumphant cry heralded the break of a new dawn atop the narrow roofs packed close together in the sleepy village that nestled into the corner of the broad plains, huddled close against the northern range of mountains rising from the plain as giant teeth of stone rising to meet the fluffy clouds that framed the aquamarine blue sky. The call echoed among the many buildings, bouncing back and forth among the many wooden buildings crowded together at the mountain's base. Satisfied with its jubilant call the small white bird that adorned one of the many red tiled roofs regally descended from his perch to witness the village's inhabitant's rise wearily from their beds, called forth by the cucco's call.
A now happy cucco turned to face in the opposite direction; away from the buildings, letting forth another cry that was, to its surprise, stopped, then replaced by a muffled squawk as a brick rose from one of the less energetic villager's hands, hitting the innocent bird in its beak wit h a dull thump.
As the now incoherent bird fell to earth, the one who threw the brick stopped on his path back into his house, staring at his hands, then the white and red bloody mess lying on the low cobbled street floor, only to dismiss it carelessly with a shrug of his shoulders and to slam the door to his humble dwelling behind him and falling back into his soft, warm bed.
Thus ended the reign of Crygor, king, of all cuccos.
