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Corri Finch was not having a good day. It had started off well enough, sure, hanging with his squad, pushing a few nerds, wall-leaning some cute girls.
Then he had made that smart-ass comment to Professor Tyson. “Who here knows why it is so important to know the base theory and construction of a spell?”
“Who cares.” He had interjected. “We’re wizards; we can just use another spell to magic our way out.” The class had laughed their agreement.
Professor Tyson had rounded on him, wand out. “Well Mr Finch, since you’re such a brilliant wizard I’m assigning you some special homework.” His hands had begun weaving. “You must unravel this spell before sunrise.”
So here Corri was; polymorphed into a finch (some people think they’re funny) and trapped in a tiny cage on his professors desk overnight.
Things just couldn’t get any worse.
It was so silent that at first Corri didn’t notice the office window opening. He did notice the black clad figure that slid inside, cat-like and graceful.
A thief!
Corri didn’t know what to do; on one hand (well, wing really) Professor Tyson deserved to get robbed, it couldn’t happen to a more deserving fellow! But on the other, Corri was currently just a defenceless bird in a very nice cage. What if the thief didn’t like birds?
Or, what if they did?
With that thought a black swathed hand reached out and plucked his cage from the desk. Into the dark clinking bag Corri went.
By all the gods, he was being burgled!
Or, really he was being stolen; since he was currently just an animal. What did the thief have in store for him?
A few more items thunked down onto his cage and the mouth of the bag was closed, shutting him in clunking darkness.
What if he was to be taken across the sea and sold to a pirate as his shoulder bird? Without Professor Tyson to undo the spell he could be stuck like this forever. Oh, why had he talked back?
The bag was on the move and Corri clung to his wildly swinging perch.
The professor had said that Corri should be able to break the spell himself, but he never was very good at that sort of thing. Why hadn’t he payed more attention in class? He was such an idiot!
He bet all those lame nerds he pushed around after class would know how to get out.
Please if the gods were listening, he’d do anything to not be a stolen bird anymore. He’d never push around the other kids, he’d listen in class. He’d become a good student.
Corri peeped his despair.