Black canaries
PruePhantomhive
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(Disclaimer)
Characters and settings of Arrow belong to their respective creators and they are used in this story with no profit.
(Summary)
Arrow had already caused the idea to go through her head, but Canary's death convinced her.
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Sara is dead, sing the birds above her head when Laurel walks under their nests, posted on the fragile branches of the trees. Dead, dead, like a bird who failed to take flight before hitting the ground.
Tired of walking, she sits on a metal bench that smells like oxide and beer. The soles of her shoes rest on the dirt that has smeared the tiles of the park over time.
It's night, but the birds are awake, anxious, as if they knew that this day they lost one of their own.
Laurel closes her eyes and breath. A bird flaps its wings and perches next to her, maybe looking for breadcrumbs.
The breadcrumbs show you the way home.
Sara, come back.
Laurel opens her eyes and looks at the tiny bird standing on the arm of the stand. It's a canary. Yellow feathers. Stained black.
Canary.
Uh-uh.
Black canary.
Certainly, Arrow had already caused the idea to go though her head, but Canary's death convinced her.
She raises a hand to touch the bird's feathers, but it flies away. Laurel smiles and starts crying.
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English is not my first language, so, please, if I made any mistakes, let me know to fix them :)