Aviary // Joshler

// PROLOGUE

It only makes sense that Tyler's first memory is of birds.

He's been surrounded by birds all his life--at least, that's what his mother tells him. "The way they sang on the day you were born," she would sigh dramatically, an almost dreamy smile on her face as she recalled the tale for her son. She was a brilliant storyteller. "It was as if mother nature herself were conducting them all, like one bright, feathery orchestra."

Tyler wishes he remembered the way they sang that day. Of course, he was only just born when it happened, so he only knows what his mother has told him.

His first clear memory, the furthest back thought that he can retrieve from his head, is still of birds. 

He was five at the time. His father was at work, and his mother was out in the yard, so Tyler was left to his own devices indoors. He was always a reasonably well-behaved child, so his mother never worried about leaving him as long as she was close by.

Tyler was sitting on the loveseat in the living room, staring out the open window. It was just now spring, and the sky was a lovely blue. The sun was soft and warm on Tyler's face, and the slight breeze in the air brought the fresh country scents of green grass and clean air to the boy's lungs.

He'd been watching his mother by the flower beds, who was planting some tulips, when a small brown bird alighted itself on the window.

Even then, birds would seem to follow him around. Whether they were smaller birds, like finches or wrens, or larger birds, like hawks or vultures, it was likely that if you were near Tyler Joseph, then you were near at least one bird, too. They perched at the top of trees, telephone poles, mailboxes, housetops--pretty much anywhere. Birds, of course, are a pretty common sighting regardless of where you live, but it is not so common to have them follow you from tree to tree, from telephone pole to telephone pole.

The birds never sang, never chirped, never whistled or cheered. They just sat and watched from afar. That is, until that day in spring.

Tyler had watched with bated breath as the small bird--a sparrow--curiously hopped closer to him. It tilted its head and let out a soft, curious chirp. Immediately, Tyler was enamored with its sweet voice.

The small bird hopped closer on twig-thin legs, still curious. Very slowly, so as not to frighten it away, Tyler lifted a finger off of the windowsill and moved it closer to the bird, holding his breath.

To his surprise and delight, the sparrow hopped right up to his hand and seemed to butt its tiny head against his finger. A smile breaking out on the child's face, Tyler gently petted the creature's speckled head. The bird enjoyed this petting, and chirped again for Tyler, hopping about on the windowsill. The small boy giggled, carefully touching the bird's tiny, fluffy feathers, and cooing to it in a sweet voice.

This was the first time Tyler would have such an encounter with a bird.

It was certainly not the last.

A/N: Any thoughts so far? I hope you're enjoying it! Please eat/drink if you haven't yet today xo