BJB, busy weekend
Ever since he was a little kid, Rory admired herons. He could watch them for hours, soaring over the nearby pond, standing absolutely still while looking for prey, slowly wading in shallow water, head suddenly darting underwater to snap a fish or a frog.
He's always wondered how it would be, to look down from a heron's perspective.
And now he got his wish.
His enjoyment, however, was ruined by the fact he was painfully gripped in said heron's beak. He wanted to scream, but only a pitiful croak came out.
In hindsight, he shouldn't have pissed that witch off.
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