Chapter Text
Wile E. was bad at hunting. It was no secret amongst the family that he couldn't catch prey whenever they ran off, so he had to resort to measly reptiles such as lizards and salamanders just to get through the day. His father, Cage E. Coyote, refused to provide Wile with his hunt because he believed he had to learn the hard way. As such, he ordered him to not speak until he caught a worthy meal.
"The Roadrunner," Cage E. hummed, drool slobbering beneath his fangs. "is a fine feast. You catch him, and you may be worthy enough to speak to this family again." Wile couldn't help to roll his eyes. He, catch a roadrunner? They were notorious for slipping through every predators fingers. What made him think that Wile E. Coyote could hunt down such a fast species with his poor eyesight? Shades of grey blurred together whenever he ran too fast. Void of colour was his sight, and his heart felt the same as his father threw so much pressure onto him. He simply nodded at his father, who sneered wolfishly in response and pointed outside of the door for him to leave until he came back with a meal.
The last time Wile had tried to catch any bird, they squawked and flew away. Even birds were mocking his disability. That's why he resorted to rodents and reptiles that were either too young or too old to know how to run away. Because he'd never seen colour, whenever he tried to hide from prey, he ended up sticking out like a sore thumb behind boulders or sand, which gave most prey a chance to run away or burrow into the grit.
Wile was good at building contraptions. Testing them, not too much. They all backfired on him one way or another. Last time he tried to catch prey, he used a crossbow in which the string snapped and lodged in his eye. Thats the only time he was able to see colour; that short burst of pain that gave him kaleidoscope vision. He couldnt help but think what would happen if he tried again, because thanks to cartoon logic, he was able to heal fast. He shook off the thought, however, because the pain overrided that desire to see new shades.
This time, he dug TNT underneath the ground with bird seed scattered over the top on it with a sign in bold that said "FREE". His only goal was to catch a roadrunner, like his father had told him to. Hidden behind a large boulder, he held the detonator near him, heart thrumming with anticipation as he licked his sharp canines. He didnt look at the seed for a split second, and he heard a whoosh! That was it! A roadrunner, finally under his grasp! As he pushed down the detonator, it ticked, and instead he was the one who faced the explosion.
"Beep beep!" He heard the taunt again after he sank into the desert sand pitifully. Like all other birds, this one mocked him. As he lay flat on the ground, fur painted in soot, he slowly opened his eyes. Blue. Blue was all he saw. Blue feathers, blue eyes, blue tail... yellow beak, yellow talons. His eyes widened in bewilderment. Did the explosion make him finally be able to see? The bird tilted its' head, and with another "Beep!", it stuck out its' tongue and ran away. Wile saw nothing but grey again. He grumbled and sat himself up, wiping off the soot with an angry paw. How dare the bird taunt him after seeing him pathetically get burnt by the detonator?
It's clear he needed to put more effort to catch this beautiful, blue bird. He could catch any other bird, but his eyes remain solely on this roadrunner. His roadrunner.