Öats

It was a lovely autumn morning on the farm, crisp wind making the red-yellow dew drenched leaves on the trees dance. A sudden, more swift breeze caused a few of the leaves to break off from their delicate branches, swaying their way lightly down from the forest at the back of the barn, to the pig pen, landing wet on the snout of one of the two pigs the barn housed.

The cold, damp sensation woke Shoebur with a start. He inflexibly lifted himself off of the dry, rough hay that littered the ground and brandished his blush coloured body to rid it of the dewy leaves and droplets. Shoebur rose his head skyward to gaze at the giant ball of light in the sky. He had overheard the humans refer to it as 'the sun'. Shoebur and his brother used the so called sun to estimate their feeding times; they had picked up on this concept when they were only teensy piglets.

The sun was swimming just above the forest, meaning their breakfast must have just arrived before Shoebur's slumber was abruptly disturbed. This sudden realization that breakfast was here shook the rest of Shoebur's senses into action. He heard a sloppy crunching from behind him, and recognized the sound as his brother feasting. Shoebur rapidly turned his colossal, chubby body and made a beeline towards the troughs, the brittle mulch scrunching underneath his rocky hooves. He peered his onyx eyes eagerly into his trough. A gasp ripped itself from Shoebur. "Brother, why did I not receive any Öats? You have plenty! Where are mine?" he exclaimed. "I took yours." Stated Brother. Farmer Bill said these were the last of the Öats for this week. You know I love Öats. You can wait until Famer Bill gets more" Brothers gruff voice rumbled sternly. Shoebur couldn't believe the words that had just left Brother's mouth. "You know that I love Öats too, though, Brother!" "Well, not as much as me". These simple words brought tears to Shoebur's eyes. He loved Öats. He did not want to deal with the slop that was in his trough.

"Brother, please, may I have some Öats?"

"Absolutely not", Brother spat harshly.

Shoebur couldn't take this anymore. He would go and find the Öatfield and get himself Öats. The way Brother was treating him was extremely foul, and he was not going to put up with it.

Shoebur furiously stomped his way inside of the barn, grabbing a small maroon sack the farmer had accidently dropped in their pen the night before. The sack was splitting at the seams from its rough uses beforehand, patched up in many places. Shoebur slung it around his neck and stampeded his way back outside toward the gate. As he got to the gate, he looked towards the forest. "Excuse me, Mrs. Crow?" Shoebur noticed a nearby crow that was nesting on a thick branch from one of the spruce trees. The crow noted Shoebur's polite call and arose from the branch, spreading her silky cobalt wings. Shoebur's interest was magnified by the way the morning sun gleamed on her wings as she swished her way down, turning into a mere silhouette against the sun, but only for a moment. She landed smoothly on the rickety fence that enclosed Shoebur in, and cocked her head to the side. "What do you need, little pig?" her scratchy voice asked Shoebur kindly. Shoebur knew he had to do this. "Would you be so kind as to open the hatch on this gate for me? I am going on a journey to the Öatfield, but I cannot get out". Shoebur's voice had trembled at the end of his sentence, the emotions from the conversation he had just had with Brother still strained in his throat. Still, he gazed at the crow, hope sweeping his somber eyes. "Why, of course! It would be no problem at all", the crow stated with a caw. She hopped over to the hatch and used her magnificent, sword like beak to flip open the hatch. Shoebur gave the feeble gate a push, and it swung open with a loud creak. "Oh, thank you, thank you!" Shoebur exclaimed, happiness prominent in his soft voice. The crow took off with another loud caw. "Good luck on your journey, little pig!" she hollered then flew back towards the forest. Shoebur smirked at phrase 'little pig' she had continuously used. He and Brother were anything but little. He smiled at the remark nonetheless. He was very thankful for the kind crow that helped him.
Shoebur took off in the opposite direction the crow had gone, to the front of the barn. He knew that was where the farmer left from when he went to restock supplies. Shoebur trotted down the path, feeling slightly hurt that Brother had not tried to stop him, or even ask where he was going, when he left. Shaking his head wildly for a moment, he said to himself with a determined voice "I can't think about that right now. I need to focus on getting to the Öatfield".