Well, Ive been told to write like I experience, so here it goes. This is to T.J., my parakeet, who just died a bit over an hour ago.
*.*.
Tris and Briar were walking home with Crane. They had just gotten done with their lessons on anatomy, and Crane had accepted Lark's invitation to dinner. When they got in the door, they noticed a very small peeping from Rosethorn's workroom. Briar went to wash up, but Tris and Crane went into the room, interested. Tris inched quietly over to where Rosethorn was sitting, holding a starling.
"Rosethorn, is it another bird?"
"Shhh."
Whether she was saying it to the bird or to Tris, she couldn't tell. Crane walked over to inspect it.
"Rosethorn, where did you find it?"
She looked up, her face was dry, but her eyes still shone of sadness.
"In the garden, he was hiding in the herbs."
"He looks old."
"Yes, I think he is."
They all watched in silence as she continued to hold and comfort the small bird. Tris walked out, leaving Crane and Rosethorn to watch him. He settled in across the room from Rosethorn, not wanting to leave her alone.
The first time the bird flinched, Crane thought he was trying to get out of Rosethorn's hold. Rosethorn thought the same apparently, because she let him down onto her habit. The bird looked as if he had landed wrong, and she tried to smooth his wings down, only for them to spread again. The wings opened and closed twice more and then it lay still. Rosethorn, with trembling fingers, picked it up again, and said something to it. The starling did not look up at the noise, and neither was it breathing. With sad eyes, she picked it up, kissed its head, and wrapped it into a cloth with one of her own hairs. She then stood up.
"Is he dead?"
"Yes."
He reached out to stroke it, admiring the brilliance of the feathers. She let him, and then silently walked to the garden to bury it. Crane watched as she dug a hole under the place where she put seed out for the wild birds. Kissing it's head once more, she laid it in the ground, and pushed dirt over it. She then put more seed over the place, and walked into the cottage again. As she walked past, she gave him a calculating look.
"Thank you."
He nodded, and they both smiled and proceeded to walk into the kitchen, where dinner was waiting.
*.*.*.
Sorry bout that, not that morbid, and the scary thing is that that is nearly exactly how it happened. * sigh* Well, that's that. ::smiles:: toodles…
*.*.
Tris and Briar were walking home with Crane. They had just gotten done with their lessons on anatomy, and Crane had accepted Lark's invitation to dinner. When they got in the door, they noticed a very small peeping from Rosethorn's workroom. Briar went to wash up, but Tris and Crane went into the room, interested. Tris inched quietly over to where Rosethorn was sitting, holding a starling.
"Rosethorn, is it another bird?"
"Shhh."
Whether she was saying it to the bird or to Tris, she couldn't tell. Crane walked over to inspect it.
"Rosethorn, where did you find it?"
She looked up, her face was dry, but her eyes still shone of sadness.
"In the garden, he was hiding in the herbs."
"He looks old."
"Yes, I think he is."
They all watched in silence as she continued to hold and comfort the small bird. Tris walked out, leaving Crane and Rosethorn to watch him. He settled in across the room from Rosethorn, not wanting to leave her alone.
The first time the bird flinched, Crane thought he was trying to get out of Rosethorn's hold. Rosethorn thought the same apparently, because she let him down onto her habit. The bird looked as if he had landed wrong, and she tried to smooth his wings down, only for them to spread again. The wings opened and closed twice more and then it lay still. Rosethorn, with trembling fingers, picked it up again, and said something to it. The starling did not look up at the noise, and neither was it breathing. With sad eyes, she picked it up, kissed its head, and wrapped it into a cloth with one of her own hairs. She then stood up.
"Is he dead?"
"Yes."
He reached out to stroke it, admiring the brilliance of the feathers. She let him, and then silently walked to the garden to bury it. Crane watched as she dug a hole under the place where she put seed out for the wild birds. Kissing it's head once more, she laid it in the ground, and pushed dirt over it. She then put more seed over the place, and walked into the cottage again. As she walked past, she gave him a calculating look.
"Thank you."
He nodded, and they both smiled and proceeded to walk into the kitchen, where dinner was waiting.
*.*.*.
Sorry bout that, not that morbid, and the scary thing is that that is nearly exactly how it happened. * sigh* Well, that's that. ::smiles:: toodles…