duckys world episode 5

Following my morning sortie at the cafe, I waddled down the paved promenade into the park's shaded stone pavilion. Upon a round concrete table, an abandoned metal whistle sat beside an empty green soda can. Its cylindrical chamber looked remarkably like an omnidirectional airfield siren. Waddling forward with steady footing, I braced my rubber chest against the whistle's flat metal loop, nudging it across the cool stone until its mouthpiece aligned directly with the soda can's aluminum lip. With a firm, decisive tap of my orange bill against the pea-chamber, a crisp metallic clink rang through the pavilion like a verified clearance beacon. Navigation marker secured, midday sector holding steady.