Birds chirped on a branch—two of them.
One held a twig proudly in its beak while the other hopped forward, watching with burning envy. In a ridiculous display of determination, the second bird lunged for the twig.
The first, sensing betrayal, pulled back at the last moment.
A comedic thunk echoed through the still morning air as the bird smacked headfirst into the tree trunk.
It slid down, dazed. The victorious bird let out what could only be described as a laugh, dropped the twig, then picked it up again—purely out of spite—before flying off in triumph.
The defeated bird, now teary-eyed, shook itself and took off in pursuit, feathers puffed like an angry cloud.
The background blurred as the birds vanished into the distance, revealing a grand scene below: a convoy preparing for departure.
