A young boy, perhaps only 7 or 8 years of age, stood holding two filled buckets of water in either hand. He took a deep breath as sweat trickled down his neck. His arms had gone numb awhile ago, but he'd rather do this than practice his fighting moves against his father.
At last the bell sounded and he dropped the buckets with a clatter. He knew in a few moments, once the feeling came back to his arms, they would ache something awful. But this moment at least, he could relax. He smiled as a gentle breeze tugged at his shirt for the first time this morning.
It brought with it a tiny sound that caused the young boy's blue eyes to turn towards the tree in the corner of his yard. The sound came again, and he saw a flash of yellow on the ground. Curiosity got the best of the boy as he hurried over to the yellow thing and scooped it up in his tiny hands. It was a baby bird, wings useless and body covered in fluffy down. He looked up and saw a bundle of sticks and twigs high overhead. He glanced back towards the small baby bird, so warm and fragile.
With determination in his eyes, the boy chose to ignore his aching muscles and gripped the side of the tree. Climbing with only one hand was difficult and he slipped on more than one occasion, but with his barbed tail digging into the trunk to keep him stable, he managed fairly well.
Carefully, he edged himself out onto the branch, cradling the baby bird in his hands as he scooted closer and closer to the nest.
"There you go," he whispered as he placed the little creature safely beside its siblings. They chirped flapped their unusable wings as the boy watched with a small smile. Then their mother returned, swooping in to the nest and cawing angrily at the intruder. The boy panicked, covering his face as the momma bird screeched and clawed at the child, until the boy suddenly lost his balance. With a yelp, he felt himself falling. He tried to turn himself in the air, but his arms were so tired.
He closed his eyes and prepared for impact. It wouldn't be that bad. But instead of the hard ground, he found himself cradled by something soft. He cracked his eyes open to find calm golden eyes and a smile above him.
"Mommy!" he called out as he cuddled against her, and she against him.
"Mommy, I was only putting back the baby. Why'd she attack me?" the boy cried as his mother sat on the ground and brushed the boy's bangs away from his face.
"She was just being protective. If there's one thing mothers can't stand, its when somebody tries to take away their babies. Even just the thought can make us go crazy," She said as she kissed her son's forehead. The boy smiled.
"I love you mommy," the boy said as he closed his eyes and curled into his mother's embrace.
"You're such a good boy. It's a shame...you couldn't save me like you saved that baby bird."
The boy's eyes opened in confusion, and he found himself covered in blood.
Glyph awoke with a start. He sighed as he calmed himself and looked down from his loft bed. The room was dark with only the light of the crescent moon peeking through the window.
