(Crossing, Zoluren: Akroeg 352)
T’was a cold winters day, and I was just returning from further exploring the Citadel. I was sweaty, tired, grumpy, covered with half-dried blood, and slightly limping from my wounds. I slowly padded northward from the Crossing/Leth ferry docks. Heading deeper into Crossings, I was just lumbering along, scarcely taking heed of anything in my path, eager to be home and away to Riverhaven, in front of the war mage guild warming my hands, and hopefully swigging down a few flutes of some Shardian Wine.
I stopped dead in my tracks and glanced around. Huddled in the corner of the room was a wretched looking songbird, its wing tilted at an unhealthy angle, and it was plainly dragging it on the ground, wincing in pain every step. It was a lively beast to be sure, And had no qualms about perching in my hair and yanking a few strands out, or perching on my piglet or on my shoulder. I found this to be extremely delightful, but after one rebuffed atempt at petting her, gave up in touching or stroking the little dear. Apparantly, she didnt want to be touched.
After about fifteen minutes, I had gradually earned her trust. I asked her if she would kindly follow me, I would try to take her to receive some help, and that she would no longer have to sit there and be privy to any antagonists.
To my absolute surprise, she hobbled along right next to me. I led her to the empath guild, and once inside, a few empaths tried to heal her, at their approaching fingers she snapped and had fits, and therfore could not be healed. for this I scolded her soundly, encouraging her and assuring her that they meant her no harm, and if I had meant to harm her, I would have by now.
A kind empath lass was the one to take the bird’s wound, and within a few moments she was a healthy young songbird once more, flying about our heads singing cheerfully. I was saddened by this too, because I had become quite fond of the pretty thing. But I knew she would have to go eventually, its no place for beautiful wild things to follow around a rag-tag half-rate warrior magician. And for once, I was right, much to my disappointment. With a final, musical twitter and a gentle perch on my shoulder, a final flap about the ceiling of the empath guild, and she was gone.
I felt empty inside, t’was the first time I myself had ever experienced anything half-so-special, and I felt incredibely sad that it was over. But so very happy that the bird was among her kin by now. Little bird, wherever you be, I wish you best of luck. It was you who inspired me to start cawing on the gweth, and become the Semi-Famous-To-A-Few-People Meanne Bird, and I guess, in this way, you have repaid whatever small debt you might have owed me for my minor service of goodwill. But again, I wish you well, little bird, wherever you may be.