“Iggy and Alby”

“Mama, I’m hungry.”

She pauses, mid-preen, to glance down at me. “Papa will be back soon,” she says around the feather in her beak.

“But I’m hungry now!”

Alby blinks open his eyes. “You woke me up,” he whines. “Mama, Iggy woke me up!”

“Did not,” I frown.

“Did too.”

“Did not!”

“DID TOO!”

“ENOUGH!” Mama hoots. Her wings snap open, blocking the entrance to our nest and plunging us into darkness.

I stare up at her, eyes wide. Alby nestles into my side, shivering from Mama’s tone.

Mama gives us one more stern look before folding her wings. She returns to preening herself.

I lean toward Alby and whisper, “Did not.”