A Dispute on the Wall

I slipped outside past the patio door, my shoes crunching softly against the damp gravel path until I found shelter behind an old terracotta pot. Just above me on the low stone wall, two plump sparrows were engaged in a remarkably tense standoff over a single shriveled red berry. Neither bird was willing to simply snatch it, preferring instead to puff out their chest feathers and hop in fierce, indignant circles. I rested my paw against the cool, gritty clay of the pot, watching every dramatic flutter. It was a terrible amount of fuss over breakfast, but I could hardly look away.