Turtles of a Feather

Chapter 4- Instinct

"Splinta! I can't kick high enough!" the tot stomped his foot in frustration.

"It takes time and practice Leonardo. You will not become a master overnight," his father placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

The young turtle ignored his father's words and continued to kick his leg in the air, trying to reach his goal height. Splinter only sighed and observed his other sons.

Raphael practiced his punches, his target being a dangling weeping willow leaf. He punched his opponent with much ferocity even though the harmless object put up little resistance.

Donatello stood on a rock protruding out of the shallow stream water. Balancing on one foot, the olive colored tot tried keeping his focus. A group of small fish below him caught his attention and he looked curiously into the practically clear stream. He wobbled violently, trying to regain his balance after his lack of focus; spreading out his wings and flapping them slightly to keep himself upright.

Michelangelo on the other hand was way too excited to even train. Gaining his ability to use his legs, only a week ago; training in ninjustu was the last thing on the winged reptile's mind.

"Michelangelo, I thought I told you to practice your back kick," the rat man gave the tot a stern look.

"But it's so HAAAAAAAARD!" Mikey hung upside down from the maple tree branch, letting his arms dangle above his head.

Splinter looked up in the tree, irritated, "Just because it is difficult, does not mean that you should not challenge yourself my son."

"But Splinta, why are we doing this anyway?" the little turtle sat up on the branch and blinked his bright blue eyes several times, dazed by the upside down position he was in mere seconds ago.

Splinter thought about his response. He was going to say something like, 'You have to because you need to survive in this harsh world!', but he did not find that to be a suitable answer for the young child. Michelangelo saw the world as a peaceful, happy place to be, and he didn't want to ruin that view for his son.

"You are doing this because I just want you to be safe," he replied with a smile.

The fluffy winged turtle sighed and began to climb down the tree, "Okay Splinta."

"Thank you my son."

Once the young reptile reached the ground, the rat man guided him under a beech tree, "Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, can you come over here?"

The young turtles immediately stopped practicing their ninjutsu and turned their attention to their father. The perfectly balanced Donatello once again lost his focus, and tried to regain balance, but this time, it was too late, and the winged reptile fell into the shallow stream below.

Raph began to giggle as his soaked younger sibling shakily stood up, his now wet wings weighing him down.

"That's not funny!" the little turtle grumbled narrowing his molasses eyes at his elder brother.

Splinter was also not amused with the brother's behavior, "Raphael, come over here this minute!"

The turtle immediately ceased his laughs and looked to the ground in shame, doing as his father told and standing in front of him.

Donatello took massive steps over the rocky stream edge, but slipped on the damp rocks, falling back into the water with a huge splash. Sputtering water out of his mouth, the little olive turtle hissed angrily; a screech mingling with the already irritated call.