My God was that first chapter horrible. Prolly the single worst thing I have ever read in my entire life.
Yech.
Here's the next chapter:
Chapter 4 – Loss
Never, in all his time on this earth, had the midnight sky seemed more beautiful.
It hurt him to see the stars, shining in their ever-constant brilliance, and the moon, a beauteous maiden surrounded by millions of tiny admirers. The dark blue sky contrasted beautifully with the pink of the peach tree beneath which he sat.
Sitting. Huh.
The act of sitting felt so alien to him. He remembered when Viper had told him that he could no longer stand on his own. He remembered his reaction to the news:
"...Huh."
Now he chuckled at the memory. He thought it hilariously depressing that such a simple, one-word answer could sum up the entirety of his feelings.
"Huh."
His eyes began to tear up, and his lighthearted chuckle quickly degraded into a quiet sob.
Never, in all his time on this earth, had the midnight sky seemed more beautiful.
He reached for the wood crutch that had brought him up to this cliff, found it lying in the dirt. It was soft in the moisture of the evening, but he knew it to be plenty stable.
It had brought him all the way up to the peach tree, and he knew he'd be done for if it wouldn't bring him back down.
But it would. From now on, it would bring him everywhere.
His wounds stung at the thought.
With one shoulder against the tree and the other on the crutch, he managed to bring himself up to a shaky stance. Now he dug his feet into the cool dirt and, sure that he would not fall, he grabbed for his other crutch. It was a clumsy maneuver, but it got him what he wanted. Truly, he thought to himself, this is how a man well past his age must feel.
His respect for the ancient Master Oogway grew tenfold in that moment. He would have to talk with the Master about how he dealt with this cursed lack of mobility.
Confident in his balance, he took a small step from the tree and collapsed immediately to the ground.
Pain shot up his spine and through every part of his body; every muscle tightened like a rope. He gasped for air and, when none would come, gritted his jaw until his beak cracked and bled.
Slowly, too slowly it seemed, the pain subsided, and when he felt he could move again, the bird reached his wings out in front of him and began to crawl to the edge of the cliff. It was a slow process, but with a few grunts and a single curse word he managed to reach the edge.
From here he looked sadly upon the sleeping valley, which sat mostly silent, mostly dead, save for a few lights, a few restless souls still awake even at this ungodly hour. He wondered just what was keeping them up.
An inspired artist refusing to turn in from his latest work.
A frightened child too afraid to let in the night.
A sad cripple unable to reach the candle and extinguish it himself.
That last thought shifted his gaze directly down at the rocky abyss below. Terrible thoughts ran through his mind.
C'mon, you're stronger than that.
But how could this happen?
Why him? Certainly there were others more deserving of such a punishment, right?
He sighed and let one disfigured wing dangle off the cliff. It swung limply in the light breeze.
Should he be angry at Tigress for doing this to him?
The avian's bored, bloodshot eyes continued to survey the silent landscape.
Absolutely.
But was he angry at her?
…He didn't know.
Soon it had gotten much too late, and he knew that if he didn't leave soon he would never make it back to the Palace by sunrise. Slowly he braced one wing underneath himself and pushed with all his strength.
It wasn't enough.
He couldn't get up.
In the morning they'll be looking for him. In the kitchen, in the pantry, in the training room.
They'll have to find him eventually.
And it was then, under the Peach Tree of Wisdom, that Master Crane truly felt old.
Old and alone.