The silence was broken by incessant, lilting tweets turned obnoxious cawing. Ava followed the noise; the neighborhood quail pecked at her kitchen window.
Dragging her bones outside, she replenished the feeder. The quail remained defiantly, and attacked the window once more. Ava smiled, lips cracked. A moment later, she sat on the lawn chair and bit into a brilliant red apple.
“I haven’t fed you in a while,” Ava whispered. The quail flew to the birdfeed to dine with her.