Angela was mindlessly paddling back home to the lake in the middle of the forest, her webbed feet propelling her buoyant feathery body, when she heard a bang. She craned her long neck to look behind her and saw a wild-eyed man pointing a shotgun at a white tiger. Quickly unfolding her wings, she lifted off silently from the water. She glided behind a nearby tree, black feathers concealed by the shadow of the thick trunk. She poked her small head out to see when the gunman would leave, hoping her red beak wouldn't give her away.

[hr]

James was sitting on an isolated bench near the edge of the park, an unopened guitar case lying flat to his right. He stared flatly ahead at the few young children playing on the playground. They all seemed to be supervised by only one parent, as the rest of the adults sitting on the surrounding benches were poking their phones. He sighed. He had never seriously considered having children before, while he was contently focused on writing music and touring with the band. But now, he had little to do with his life. He stood up, grabbing his guitar case. He wouldn't get the inspiration to write a proper song here. As he was leaving the park, his eyes caught a red shirt moving down the sidewalk, worn by a slender boy with shoulder-length brown hair.