One quiet day, I, AWEBO, was strutting through the forest — collecting berries, flapping dramatically, and screaming my usual “AWE!” into the trees.
It was peaceful… too peaceful.
Then — a twig snapped.
From behind a tree stepped… HIM.
Fluffy. Intense. With eyes that held zero nonsense.
Larry.
A capercaillie. Silent like a tundra night.
He said nothing. Just stared.
And me? I did what any fabulous bird would do — screamed: “AWEBO!”
Since that day… we’ve been rivals.
Or maybe frenemies.
Or just two birds with unfinished business.
One thing’s for sure:
this is just the beginning.