Warm. To warm.
The air is burning.
Thick dark air chokes me,
Bright hot air suckles and gnaws at my home.
Up.
I am going up.
There is a strange mouth holding me.
Cold and hot air brushes against me like my mother's warm breath.
All I can hear is crackling leaves about a thousand times louder.
And I am taken away.
Put down on rough ground. There is no nest here, only the comfort of Mother's belly.