You want Pinion to try to fly? My good friend, I trusted that you were a kind soul but now I wonder if you have a streak of cruelty in you. Either that or you're aware of Elizabeth Kubler-Ross' 5 Stages of Grief and expect to see Pinion go through a denial phase for the sake of its own sanity.

Hmph. Well, let's see how it turned out for Pinion, shall we?

Pinion spread its wings. It had done this before occasionally, out of pure instinct or to beat its wings a little for exercise, but it had never flapped with intent to try to leave the ground. Now it did.

Its wings chopped through the air without giving any feeling of lift. It lowered its head to put its back into the effort and worked harder. Alas, it was to no avail!

It refused to look any of its flock-mates in the eye; it didn't want to see their looks of pity, fear, or amusement.

The sound of a raspy chuckle behind Pinion made it stop. Pinion folded its wings hastily, snapping out of its fit of anger, and looked cautiously over its shoulder.

Two storks had come to the opposite side of the fence and watched with a gleam of amusement in their eyes. "Nah, keep going! That's the funniest thing I've seen all day!"

The other stork cackled and the pair watched Pinion for a little longer.

Pinion decided against saying anything and simply did what it could to save face. It folded its damaged wings, and slowly started to pick at the grass and meander towards the pond.

At length it heard one stork say to the other, "Meh. Come on. It's over."

Maybe you should choose more wisely for Pinion. What would you like it to do now?


- Talk with Langoustine?

- Show the tourists what the keepers have done?