Apr 03 2018, 10:20 AM
He wondered if he could escape this place. He decided that it was worth a try. Using his wings and beak to his advantage, he eventually formed cracks in his prison. Then, with one more thump of his sore wings, he spilled out on to the ground, landing on his back. Shards of something fell around him. Above him, his prison; a black, shiny rock with red speckles scattered here and there on it.
Oh, good, the entire place seemed wet with moisture. Then again; it was hard to tell when one's feathers were soaked and plastered to your body. He rolled himself over, laying awkwardly on the ground. Now he was wet, sore, and covered in dirt and mud. Maybe it wasn't that good of a trade off.