Randy
Well-known member
The birds are silent today, as they mourn and reflect on the loss of a comrade.
Private Avius “Fluff” Finch put his life on the line to venture into enemy territory on a dangerous recon mission, and sadly did not return.
Born into poverty, Finch was adopted at a young age by a loving family of sparrows. As a teenager, he endeavoured to find his birth parents, only to discover a decrepit aging pair, worn down by the ravages of drinking after having to give up their son. They passed away peacefully after seeing him one last time, and he returned to his adoptive family and took on the house colours of brown and grey, a touching tribute to his carers.
Devastated by the sickness of his real parents, he vowed to live healthy and strong. He spent his days wildly climbing the skies, practicing manoeuvres and evasion tactics. The day he was old enough, he enlisted with The Resistance. Here, he found a second family, brotherhood and discipline his wild soul so desperately sought. He graduated top of his academy class, and quickly proved himself an asset. In increasingly dangerous missions, he earned the nickname “Fluff” after a daring strike at the enemy leader, where he returned home with a tuft of her hair. He was awarded the highest possible honour of the organisation: The Silver Quill.
Each mission was a thrill, the adrenaline became an addiction, and he started to become more reckless. His peers and mentors worried. But a chance meeting saw him find love. He realised he had a future outside the barracks, and proposed. He became officially engaged, and penned his resignation from the organisation, pending one last mission he had already helped plan. It was a bold strategy, the like of which had never been dared before, and involved a deep incursion behind enemy lines. It’s advantage was it’s simplicity, but at a high risk, and Fluff was the man for that job. He kissed his fiancé goodbye that morning, and left, neither realising that was to be their final farewell. Little did he know, there was to have been a surprise for him when he got home in the form of three petite, pale blue eggs.
At base, there was some back-slapping and admonition to be careful. Fluff laughed it off and told them to have a cup of tea waiting when he got back.
The hours passed, and Fluff became late. A few more passed with no sign. “How long do we wait? Who is brave enough to go in and search for him?”, asked his comrades. They need not bother, as a border scout burst in. “Sirs! Sirs!”,
the fear and urgency was clear in his song. “You must all come at once!” he cried, and, shocked by his agitation, they followed.
The scene they then witnessed was to be etched into their minds forever, eventually to carry on as legend. Of the corpse, there was only a single sign; the head. It was being putted around the scene by the enemy lieutenant in a savage mockery. The enemy leader sat triumphant, scattering her nemesis’s fine coat of feathers around her, something not seen in living memory, and invoked painful memories of the chainsaw wars of 2017, such was the carnage before them. One old solider turned his head away to weep. The silence was absolute, except for the sobs.
His fiancée was devastated, to say the least. The day after the news was broken to her, she threw herself from the top floor of their home, in an effort to be reunited with her love. They are now buried together, tenderly enshrouded by dust bunnies, grass, and the fur of their enemies, who so cruelly destroyed their perfect future.
Avius and his fiancée, Polly are survived by their children, two boys and a girl. They have been taken in by The Resistance, where they will be fostered out, far, far away from the danger and violence that overcame their parents, never to return.
AVICUS “FLUFF” FINCH: 2020 - 2021. Thoughts and prayers.
(Shamelessly stolen from Facebook, made me smile).
Private Avius “Fluff” Finch put his life on the line to venture into enemy territory on a dangerous recon mission, and sadly did not return.
Born into poverty, Finch was adopted at a young age by a loving family of sparrows. As a teenager, he endeavoured to find his birth parents, only to discover a decrepit aging pair, worn down by the ravages of drinking after having to give up their son. They passed away peacefully after seeing him one last time, and he returned to his adoptive family and took on the house colours of brown and grey, a touching tribute to his carers.
Devastated by the sickness of his real parents, he vowed to live healthy and strong. He spent his days wildly climbing the skies, practicing manoeuvres and evasion tactics. The day he was old enough, he enlisted with The Resistance. Here, he found a second family, brotherhood and discipline his wild soul so desperately sought. He graduated top of his academy class, and quickly proved himself an asset. In increasingly dangerous missions, he earned the nickname “Fluff” after a daring strike at the enemy leader, where he returned home with a tuft of her hair. He was awarded the highest possible honour of the organisation: The Silver Quill.
Each mission was a thrill, the adrenaline became an addiction, and he started to become more reckless. His peers and mentors worried. But a chance meeting saw him find love. He realised he had a future outside the barracks, and proposed. He became officially engaged, and penned his resignation from the organisation, pending one last mission he had already helped plan. It was a bold strategy, the like of which had never been dared before, and involved a deep incursion behind enemy lines. It’s advantage was it’s simplicity, but at a high risk, and Fluff was the man for that job. He kissed his fiancé goodbye that morning, and left, neither realising that was to be their final farewell. Little did he know, there was to have been a surprise for him when he got home in the form of three petite, pale blue eggs.
At base, there was some back-slapping and admonition to be careful. Fluff laughed it off and told them to have a cup of tea waiting when he got back.
The hours passed, and Fluff became late. A few more passed with no sign. “How long do we wait? Who is brave enough to go in and search for him?”, asked his comrades. They need not bother, as a border scout burst in. “Sirs! Sirs!”,
the fear and urgency was clear in his song. “You must all come at once!” he cried, and, shocked by his agitation, they followed.
The scene they then witnessed was to be etched into their minds forever, eventually to carry on as legend. Of the corpse, there was only a single sign; the head. It was being putted around the scene by the enemy lieutenant in a savage mockery. The enemy leader sat triumphant, scattering her nemesis’s fine coat of feathers around her, something not seen in living memory, and invoked painful memories of the chainsaw wars of 2017, such was the carnage before them. One old solider turned his head away to weep. The silence was absolute, except for the sobs.
His fiancée was devastated, to say the least. The day after the news was broken to her, she threw herself from the top floor of their home, in an effort to be reunited with her love. They are now buried together, tenderly enshrouded by dust bunnies, grass, and the fur of their enemies, who so cruelly destroyed their perfect future.
Avius and his fiancée, Polly are survived by their children, two boys and a girl. They have been taken in by The Resistance, where they will be fostered out, far, far away from the danger and violence that overcame their parents, never to return.
AVICUS “FLUFF” FINCH: 2020 - 2021. Thoughts and prayers.
(Shamelessly stolen from Facebook, made me smile).