(Draft 2. Edited per Liquid's suggestion.) Feedback is welcome. ________________________________ Grayfeather poked his beak out from under the eaves, testing the weather. A gust of icy wind blasted his face, ruffling his feathers, and he shivered. Instinct warned him to stay hidden up here, out of the deadly cold, but his clenched stomach commanded him to leave and seek food. On mornings like this the sparrows huddled in their nests, up in the eaves of the yellow brick building, until hunger forced them out. This winter was a miserable, brutal one, and scavenging was pointless. The snow was piled four sparrows high and showed no signs of thawing. Even the most determined of them could not scratch their way through. The best they could do was hope for crumbs. Grayfeather spread his wings and flew out from under the eaves, gliding across the frozen courtyard and landing on a window ledge. He peeked in through the tinted window. Just beyond was a stall where two ape-beasts sold a foul-tasting brown liquid and an assortment of pastries. The bagels and muffins sat there in their neat rows, just behind the glass, taunting the starving sparrow. Grayfeather’s gaze shifted to his reflection in the window, a brown-tinged distortion of himself. He could see the despair in his eyes, and he turned away. Self-pity wouldn’t put food in his beak. He hopped off the ledge and fluttered over to the sidewalk, near where the window swung open and the ape-beasts exited the building. Most of the flock – those not on guard duty – were already assembled here, hoping one of the departing customers would be careless with its purchase. Careless, or generous. Like that one, over there. Grayfeather watched as the ape-beast tore off a tiny piece of its bagel. He craned his head upward – was it meant for him? No, the ape-beast was looking in a different direction. Grayfeather was not the only one watching. Raider and Two Spots looked up at the crumb, then at each other. Both sparrows lowered their heads, glaring at each other, ready to race. The crumb flew. Both sparrows rushed forward, talons tearing at the cold concrete. Two Spots had the lead- no, Raider was pulling ahead- The two sparrows collided. There was a flurry of feathers, a frenzy of cheeping, and one final, frustrated shriek. Raider sailed off into a nearby hedge to enjoy her prize. Grayfeather watched, despondent. The flock shouldn’t have to live like this, fighting for scraps, when there was a feast just on the other side of the window. Some, like him, were too old to fight. Others… Grayfeather looked over at Red, half-blind from an eye infection, and Blackbeak, with a broken leg that would never heal. They could not compete for food. They would starve to death if the weather didn’t improve. Unless… One of the ape-beasts dragged out a cardboard box, propping open the door. They must be preparing to move something large. The way was open – but only for a little while. He would need help. Surely the ape-beasts would fight to defend their treasure, and he could not carry an entire bagel by himself. He would need a sparrow with the courage to face the towering, hulking ape-beasts in their lair, the speed and agility to dodge their deadly blows, and the strength to haul one of the enormous bagels out of its case and out the door. In other words, he needed Raider. The thought frightened him almost as much as the prospect of starving. The key to peaceful living in this flock was to never approach Raider – she would attack anyone foolish enough to try. Sparrows, starlings, squirrels, even a nosy dog – the species didn’t matter. She’d fought them all - and won. Impossible to get along with, but she was the bird you wanted on guard duty. Many a marauding starling had learned to fear her wrath. She was finishing her bagel crumb when Grayfeather found her. He chirped a cautious greeting as he approached. Her head shot up. Two fierce brown eyes locked onto on Grayfeather’s. Raider lowered her head, preparing to charge. Grayfeather shrank back and squawked an apology. Raider ruffled her feathers and stood up straight, somewhat mollified. Her eye-stripes remained fixed in a scowl as she demanded to know why he’d come. Chirping softly, he explained: *There’s no food.* She lowered her head again and replied with an angry cheep: *Back off. This crumb is MINE.* She must have misunderstood. Grayfeather squawked another apology and continued: *There can be food for all of us. We don't have to fight each other.* Raider turned back to her meal. Grayfeather realized this was the wrong approach. Raider *liked* fighting for her meals. He looked back at the door. The ape-beasts were moving a cart inside. They would close the door when they were done. There wasn’t much time. *You’ve never fought an ape-beast before.* She ruffled her feathers. *No, I haven’t.* Grayfeather gestured toward the open door, cheeping softly: *Now’s your chance. You can make them fear you, just as the starlings fear you.* The cart was through the door. *But we have to move now.* Raider let out a contemptuous chirp: *Now? I can fight one whenever I want.* Once again, she looked like she might peck him. He shuffled back a few more steps. Maybe appealing to her pride would work. *Why fight for crumbs when you can take the whole bagel?* *I don’t need you for that. I can take the whole bagel the next time one of those morons leaves the store.* *We don’t have to wait. If we attack now, we can take all the bagels. All of them, nice and fresh. Not after some ape-beast has touched it with its grimy hands, slobbered on it and dropped it on the ground.* That got her attention. She stood there, head to one side, thinking. Grayfeather looked back to the door. The ape-beast was coming back to retrieve the box. One last try. *Have you ever wanted to raid an ape-beast’s nest?* If sparrows could smile, Raider would have. Grayfeather could see it in her eyes. Already she was dreaming of the mayhem she would unleash, the ape-beasts screaming and diving out of her way. *All right, Grayfeather. War it is.* Something in her tone made him uneasy. She gulped down the remains of her bagel crumb and took flight. Grayfeather rushed to follow her, his old wings straining to keep pace. He called to the sparrows still on the ground, telling them there was food, lots of food, where he was headed. There was a rush of wings as several others rose to join them. A gust of warm, stale air rose beneath their wings as they approached the door. Grayfeather let out a jubilant chirp, thinking of the feast to come. The others joined in. Cheeping and chirping, the raiding party swooped through the open door in a blur of gray and brown. Three of the ape-beasts were standing in line. Another five lounged in nearby chairs. Most of them were distracted, staring at those funny glowing rectangles that they liked to carry. Not a single one of them appeared prepared to defend their roost – in fact, the one closest to the door ducked and hurried away… Raider shrieked a war cry and dove at the nearest ape-beast. The sparrows followed. The ape-beast yelped and swatted at the birds with its glowing rectangle. Two-Spots took a direct hit and fell, dazed. The flock circled the ape-beast’s hand, diving and pecking, until the rectangle slipped from its grasp and shattered on the floor. The ape-beast gave up and fled. Two others followed. Pecking and scolding, Raider flew at the face of one who did not flee. The flock followed in Raider’s wake, revenging themselves upon the slow, clumsy, earthbound vermin who had tormented them for so long. *No more*, they cheeped. No more scattering before the ape-beasts’ feet like so many dry leaves. No more being chased by the ape-beasts’ shrieking fledglings or yapping dogs. No more cigarette butts dumped in their drinking water. No more squabbling over whatever scraps the ape-beasts deigned to give them. Grayfeather circled the room, cheeping, trying to the gather the flock. This wasn’t going the way he planned. His goal was to swoop in, grab a bagel and get out. Raider seemed intent on starting a war with the ape-beasts. On some level, Grayfeather itched to join her. After all, it was the ape-beasts who had build this city, hacking down the trees and trampling the grasses, leaving nothing but empty fields of asphalt and concrete where no food could grow. But even as fierce as she was, Raider would not win that fight. Most of the flock, remembering their hunger, left off chasing the ape-beasts and flew up to join Grayfeather. They spotted the coffee shop and swooped down, scolding the bagel-keeper. Grayfeather landed on the bagel-keeper's hand and pecked its knuckles. It yelped and swung its hand, mashing Grayfeather's left wing against the cash register. He fell onto the counter and hopped away, dazed. His wing hurt, but it didn’t feel broken. He staggered away, hoping the ape-beast would not hit him again. The ape-beast shrieked, and Grayfeather looked up. Raider was perched upon the ape-beast’s head, pecking at its scalp. The ape-beast clutched at its hair, but Raider was too quick. Squawking and scolding, she herded the panicked ape-beast out from behind the counter and down the hallway. Two of the other sparrows had already landed inside the pastry display. They were taking turns tearing chunks out of a multigrain bagel when Grayfeather hopped up. Wasting no time, he pecked out a beakful for himself. The rest of the raiding party landed and joined in, stuffing their beaks with the soft bread. The last to land was Raider. Grayfeather looked at the streak of blood on her beak and said nothing. He had a nasty feeling he would regret this tomorrow. Once the bagel looked small enough, three of the raiders grabbed hold of what remained- Raider rushed forward, cheeping *OUT OF MY WAY, LOSERS!* The other sparrows scattered. Raider took hold of the half-eaten bagel and dragged it out of the display case. Grayfeather realized he should have seen that coming. They waited until she was through the door and out of sight before starting on another bagel. Once it was eaten down enough, three sparrows grabbed it and took flight, winging their way across the now-deserted lobby. Grayfeather gave the coffee shop one last glance. They might not be able to raid it again. Even the ape-beasts might be smart enough to post some guards next time. And then there was the possibility that they might retaliate… the sparrows might even have to find a new home. But that was tomorrow's problem. For today, the sparrows were fed. They flew out into the cold January air, half-eaten bagel suspended between them, towards the rest of the hungry flock.