The spear pierces through the air, picking up speed as it hurtles towards the poor bird caught in the crossfire. The bird barely clears the tree before the wooden shaft inpales it. A small yellow blur falls to the ground with a sickening crunch. Stella rushes over to it. I stay where I am, a hand clamped over my mouth in shock.
She stops and kneels beside the deasesed creature, lifting it in her chocolate colored hands.
"Why did you do that!" I spit, rushing over to her.
Stella shakes her head and stands up before thrusting her cupped hands at me. The spear had been pulled out, leaving a gaping hole. There was no blood or innards. The bird looked . . . Hallow. I peered inside. A long metal skeleton wound its way through the birds body, connected to each body part with wires.
The bird is fake. Why would there be a fake bird in the wilderness?
