A Gentle Tap on Teal

A warm hum settled inside my seams. Everything behind these tinted lenses had a gentle amber glow. Slowly, without any hurry, I gave my left wing a small test flutter. It moved. Just beside me stood a smooth, cool teal bottle. I leaned over by a fraction of an inch and tapped the plastic with the tip of my wing tip. A faint, clear thrum echoed back through my plush side. I settled back into the cozy hollow of the wood, perfectly content to take it all in.