event roll
The afternoon is cool and crisp. It will be a cold night, fine for huddling near the bonfires and sipping fresh, warm cider.
Somewhere in the apple orchard, a nest falls to the ground. The three chicks within have barely begun to grow soft brown feathers in awkward little patches around the shoulders. One of them proudly sports a terrible teenage hairdo; at the very top of his head an off-center clump of white feathers. They all call out, loud and urgent, for their mother.
For a long time, the cries echo in the seaside air. Mother never returns and the chicks grow quiet, hungry and tired. Not resigned to their fate, just… too tired to fight, for the moment. Their calls grow quieter, marked by long silences between the shrill chirps.
Will Moira and Michael hear the baby birds? Will they help them, or leave the chicks to their fate?
