A Taste For Chicken

Spring Prelude - Part 1

The first rays of the sun painted the sky in shades of pink and gold, casting a warm glow over the city as the world woke to the first day of spring. The air was fresh and crisp, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers just on the cusp of unfurling their delicate petals. All around, nature was in a hurry—buds pushing out from the tips of branches, grasses stretching taller and greener, and birds singing exuberantly as they flitted from tree to tree.

The sky was a brilliant blue, unmarred by clouds, with the promise of a beautiful day ahead. The energy in the air was palpable, everything bursting with life and vibrancy, as though the entire world was shaking off the lethargy of winter and preparing to leap into the new season. It was the kind of morning that made you want to take a deep breath and soak in the beauty of the world.

But then, reality intruded.

The door to the meeting room at Nest HQ slammed open with a force that made the walls tremble. Hawks stormed in, his face twisted into a scowl, and his wings puffed out in agitation. The usually sleek and controlled feathers were now fluffed up, twitching with barely contained irritation.

Behind him, Heron entered in a similar state. His wings were in a constant state of twitch, his face set in a deep frown that mirrored Hawks'. The two men glanced at each other, and without a word, shared a look of mutual understanding—a knowing frustration that only they could fully grasp.

Heron let out a long sigh, ruffling his wings before folding them tightly against his back. "I hate these stupid hormones we have to take for spring," he muttered, his voice filled with exasperation.

Hawks nodded, his scowl deepening as he crossed his arms. "I can’t stand it," he agreed, "Every year, it’s the same damn thing. I just want to punch something."

Heron glanced at him, his expression softening just slightly. "You want to spar after the meeting?" He suggested, "Get some of this aggression out?"

"Yeah," Hawks agreed, his tone flat but appreciative, "That sounds good."

As they exchanged their plans for a post-meeting spar, Kiwi entered the room, her usual boisterous energy nowhere to be found. Instead, she moved with a slow, almost dreary demeanor, her shoulders slumped and her face clouded with a heavy sadness. She sighed deeply as she took her seat, and though Hawks and Heron both noticed her mood, they wisely kept their questions to themselves. They knew better than to pry—Kiwi was just as affected by the spring hormones as they were, only in her case, it seemed to manifest as a temporary but profound depression.

The door opened again, this time with far less force, and Owl walked in with a bright, cheerful smile, a stark contrast to the gloomy atmosphere that had settled in the room. He was holding a pink coffee mug with flowers all over it, which he raised in a playful toast as he greeted them. "Happy spring, everyone!" He sang.

Hawks and Heron both glared at him, their expressions darkening further at Owl’s annoyingly good mood. Hawks, his voice dripping with annoyance, muttered, "Of course you’re in a good mood."

Owl chuckled, entirely unbothered by their ire. "It’s good to be past that era of my life," he said cheerfully, taking a sip of his coffee.

Hawks grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, while Heron simply sighed, looking as though he wanted to bury his face in his hands. "Lucky you," Hawks said bitterly, his wings giving an involuntary twitch, "Meanwhile, the rest of us are stuck dealing with it."

Owl’s smile only widened, clearly enjoying the rare opportunity to be on the other side of the hormonal chaos that spring brought. "Look at the bright side," he said, his tone teasing, "It’ll be over before you know it. Just think of it as character-building."