Done as a gift for
\n\t\t\t\t\twindpaw's birthday. Which is coming up next month. Hope you like it!\n\t\t\t\t\twindpaw's birthday. Which is coming up next month. Hope you like it!",
"writing": "The Wild Indoors\n\nA Birdsongs Additional Verse\n\nBy Gildedtongue\n\nWorld, Characters, and the like belong to Windpaw.\n\nThe rush of air tickled the underside of Timothy's wings as the shrike sailed across the winds. Trees made a mottled mass far below as the hot summer sun warmed them and Timmy's grey feathers. The woods were alive with the tweeting gossip of the various avian occupants of the trees, always quick with a yarn, no matter how inane or tawdry.\n\nThe shrike decided on a lark to follow along the power lines. The quiet hum and the smell of ozone filling the bird's nares making following the path easy. Timmy came across the clearing for one of the small farms in the area, alighting himself on the power line as he looked down at the building. A quaint little house, new construction, definitely, surrounded by the green growing cornfields, getting ready for harvesting. The window closest to the lines was open and Timmy could see inside the kitchen.\n\nTimmy wasn't a first-flyer, and knew the difference between a closed window and an open one, even if it took him several head-first cracks against the glass to get the lesson. But, seeing the open ledge, the butcherbird flew down and landed on the ledge. His curved beak moving in past the drapes as he saw no one in the room. Various humming boxes and tables and piles of porcelain filled the place anointed with an annoying yellow wallpaper.\n\nBut the more interesting thing in the room were the two slabs of beef laying in marinade on the countertop. Timmy had heard stories from some of the local vultures about the taste of cattle, and while he wasn't all too eager to join them on their scavenges, the grey bird was coloured interested. Peeking around the room a bit more, Timmy dared into the kitchen proper. The cool air from the swamp cooler was a pleasant contrast from the hot sun outside. The air smelled different, not as rich or earthy, but, aside from the smell of the meat and the water inside of the faucet he stood upon, it was an eerie nothing to the air.\n\nTimothy had to keep his tiny ear holes pricked, getting caught in a man's den would, at best be a good way to be swatted by a broom, but, at worse, he could be made similar to the beef he's spying. Looking around, he saw the chairs of the kitchen table. The back of the chairs having two spires, one on each end, perfect for the butcher bird as he flew to one of the steaks, grasping it in his talons and yanked it into the air.\n\nThe meat was heavier than he expected, the drooling marinade didn't help matters, especially as his grip kept getting loose. The shrike swung his legs forward, making the steak flip and be thrown forward, going end over end before stabbing itself on the chair, sliding down a little as the impaling took purchase. It took all of Timmy's self-control not to tweet in success as he perched on the meat of the steak.\n\nThe butcher bird is not some common raptor who shoves his beak into his meal, gobbling wantonly. It is a sophisticated, well mannered creature of the sky, tending to make cuts to feed upon civily. Timmy's talons carved a hunk out of the steak, bringing it to his beak as he chewed the succulent prey. The salty Worcestershire sauce was a pleasant compliment to the sweet meat as Timmy carved himself another piece of food. The tiny bird was certainly going to to be fat and sassy after this. He certainly couldn't come back to this place for more, so he made the best of what he could get.\n\nAs he continued to eat, the shrike heard singing in the house. Sweet tweets and chirps rang in Timmy's ears as he heard a creature singing in Avian, the common language of birds. With his belly full, Timmy's curiosity growled in hunger, forcing him to take flight deeper into the house. The singing got louder as he made his way through the halls.\n\nFluttering into a new room, Timmy found the source of the singing. A green Budgerigar parrot chirped quietly in a brass cage. Standing before a small window, the bird tweeted to another, who seemed to be speaking at the same time. The grey shrike clamped his talons on one of the brass bars, but the steak sauce caused him to squeak down it slightly, breaking the parrot's concentration.\n\n“What's this, now, mate?” he spoke with a very thick accent, even in Avian, and Timmy figured that the Australian parrot wasn't from around these parts. The rounded pet parrot waddle from his perch, hopping down to the floor near the door, getting a better look at the feral creature outside.\n\n“Ah, sorry about that.” Timmy started, rubbing his neckfeathers with his wing, “I just came inside and I heard you singing, and I wanted to check it out.” He smiled, “It sounded very nice.” Even though the host was behind bars, it was best not to taunt him too much, one never knows how much attention he could garner, and in a human dwelling, it is not a place to have someone try to call for re-enforcements.\n\nThe parrot seemed to like the ego stroking, “'Ey, you're okay there, mate. 'tween you and me, a lot smarter than that bloke back there.” he muttered, motioning his head towards the window behind him, where the other parrot mysteriously has disappeared. “Been trying to get his attention, but, he's always singing the same song as me. Terribly rude. But, it's ever so lonely in here.”\n\nTimmy nodded, looking at the door. It was a simple wire slider, the same sort of clasp on the seed dispensers some of the other birds have the shrike open up for them. Flying up a bit, Timmy pulled the clasp and with a tug back, opened up the door. “Well, now you can follow me and join up with my people. Trust me, you'll be pining for the days you were lonely soon enough!” Timmy laughed.\n\nThe parrot shook his head, lifting one wing and wiggling the tips, or he would if he had them. The feathers were clipped, making the chubby bird's ability to fly on out an impossibility. “I'd walk, but that devil of a cat'll rip me to ribbons.” The shrike nodded, leaning closer to the opening before stepping inside. The newspaper crinkled underneath the bird's talons as the the parrot stepped aside, letting in his guest. “Oh, I'm Bruce, by the way. But, in Man-tongue, my name's POLLY!” the green bird said with a smile on his beak.\n\n“POLLY, eh? That's a weird name. Ah, I'm Timothy, though, Timmy is fine,” Timmy said, looking at the various knickknacks in the cage. “But, I have heard of birds like you, parrots, right? You guys can understand humans and all?”\n\nBruce ran a clipped wing over his chest in his pride. “Understand the blokes and talk back at'm,” the parrot chuckled softly, “Though, ah, not much, some, though.” he hopped up onto one of the lower bars, bidding Timmy to join him. The shrike flapping up to the pole, joining the parrot. “Lessee, they greet one another with, 'HEY LARDASS!' and they say 'bye with 'I'LL SEE YOU IN HELL, FUCKER!'” Bruce grinned quietly, “Mmm, and when they're in their nest in the next chamber, she says how much she loves him by saying 'NOT IN THE ASS, PHIL! NOT IN THE ASS!'”\n\nTimmy blinked quietly, “Wow, that's... a really way of saying things.” The shrike put his feathered arm to Bruce's chest, “So, I guess there's no one out here that you can say NOT IN THE ASS to?” The grey bird knew the answer, lowering his feathers to the parrot's belly, preening his neckfeathers, “Well, this is your lucky afternoon, Bruce, because you're standing with the hottest piece of tailfeather in all the woodlands.”\n\nBruce cocked his head one way, confused, but his eyes went wide as Timmy lifted his tailfeathers, bending forward and presented himself. The tight cloaca from the raptor inviting the seed-eater, making Bruce cough slightly. Through the green plumage, a short, thick length slid into the open air, drooling preseed already. Timmy chuckled to himself, lowering himself to nuzzle the flesh right between his nares, “Mmmmm, such a pretty cock, on a very pretty cock.”\n\nIn the living room, Mrs. Muffy, a tomcat living on the farm, felt that something was amiss. In his sterile, same, even home, there was a twinge of something wrong. The muddled breed cat, a product of centuries of unregulated cat sex, prowled around his house. Something didn't sit well in the air, and Mrs. Muffy stakes his testes on it.\n\nTimmy's eyes were wide. He had taken thicker cocks, but they were usually longer and more tapered. Bruce shoved in something thick and round at the top, plowing into the butcherbird's bowels, making the woodland slut cheep in bliss. “A-ah yeah... ah fuck!” he groaned loudly. Timmy looked at that window, blinking slightly as that other parrot seems to have found another shrike to fuck. How utterly serendipitous!\n\nThe thick parrot cock stretched and moved around in Timmy's rear, making the shrike trill and chirp in bliss. Now that he was adjusted, it was an utter joy to be pounded. It wasn't too long, so when Bruce thrust, it pounded against Timmy's prostate, making him chirp louder and more needfully as his own cock throbbed beneath him. Timmy tweeted out loud before gushing his birdseed all over the newspaper.\n\nBruce wasn't far behind, years of blueballs and the green avian gave another firm thrust into the grey bird's bottom. The parrot shouting out various heard obsenities in Man-tongue as he offered his birdseed into his new friend's cloaca. The parrot's talons gripping Timmy's feathers as both trembled in the blissful fun of the event. Feathers fell down onto the newspaper as Bruce preened Timmy's neck and shoulder feathers quietly, both exhausted in the euphoria of the afterglow.\n\nThe loud tweeting did not go unnoticed as Mrs. Muffy made his way into the farmer's den, seeing the cage. The brown cat hopping up on the dresser the brass cage sat upon, purring loudly as he saw the door open and not one, but two delicate morsels just within reach, unmoving in their post copulatory position. A heavy, white furred paw slid inside, wicked, sharp claws sliding out of their sheaths as the cat kept as quiet as he could.\n\nThe heavy thump on the dresser 'roused Timmy up from his daze. His eyes glassed over slightly, wondering what was going on. As he blinked quietly, his eyes went wide, seeing the clawed appendage approaching, shrieking out in terror, waking Bruce from his daze. Both birds flapped wildly, trying to get away from the furry arm pawing and grabbing for them. A low growl came from their attacker as Bruce was pinned at the back corner of the cage, unable to fly out of danger like Timmy. All the parrot could do was scream out, “Oh shit!”\n\nTimmy looked in surprise, seeing his new partner in trouble. He looked back at the cat, divebombing his arm as his talons sank into his skin. His sharp beak pecking and attacking the feline as Mrs. Muffy yowled, pulling away. The cat lept back on the floor, limping to safety to lick his wounds.\n\nHis fight-or-flight instincts in overdrive, Timmy bolted from the cage, making a bee-line to the kitchen once again before sailing out of the window. It was one hell of an eventful day that day, and the shrike was just thankful to escape with a belly full of meat and a tail full of spunk and all of his own organs still within him.\n\nLeft alone, Bruce felt like he was about to have a heart attack. The parrot looked around the tattered remains of his cage, slowly making his way back up at the mirror. The Budgie was frazzled, and his window was shattered in the melee. It didn't matter any more. He didn't feel like he had to impress someone who didn't seem to listen to him as Bruce looked out of his cage, tweeting his song to his flown-off love.\n\nFive minutes later, the farmer came back inside after working on his tractor. Blood was printed all around the house and he followed it to the cat who was spending time licking his paw in the entryway. The farmer looked into the kitchen, seeing one steak off the counter, on the chair, and bits eaten from it. “That fucking cat...” he muttered, picking up the broom. Seems Mrs. Muffy's bad day isn't over just yet.\n\n",
"writing_bbcode_parsed": "The Wild Indoors