A Crowned Rattle ep 76

A pale, ribbed capsule crowned like a tiny turret was resting beside an empty seedling flat on the cedar planks. I paused three hops away, cocking my neck sideways to check if it would roll on its own. It stayed completely motionless in the afternoon sun. Waddling close with steady resolve, I lined up my orange beak and gave the stiff stem a firm nudge. *Shhk-shhk!* The dry poppy pod rolled half a turn, rustling with the muffled rattle of loose seeds sloshing inside its belly. I hopped back in surprise, neck bobbing, then marched right back to bowl it across the wood.