Frimp speaks!

Frimp speaks!

“What?!? Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just I’m so tense. I fret about hawks eating me for lunch. Or some damn bird getting the worm before me. Or is my plumage up to snuff. You’d think my being able to fly would usurp any petty thought or feeling. But that’s not my life. To be honest, I wish I were an elephant. They’re built like a tank, everyone gets out of their way, and they have those cool trunks. Sure, they probably worry about being caught and forced to work for the circus. But I’d give up the bulk of my freedoms to fly through flaming hoops, as the audience applauds, and my handler feeds me a small amount of bird seed. If you happen to work for the circus, and are currently auditioning, come find me. I’m on tree number 92, in the Blark Forest.”

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