a crow, a rubber duck and raisin toast. 

oh boy.

Lars eyed the raisin toast longingly. Delicious raisin toast, just a short flight away, separated from him by only a thin veneer of unforgiving glass that he would crash into if he tried to claim it. How could he get to the treasure beyond the glass? Lars thought for a while, perched on a branch nearby and hidden from the untrained eye. He could call the other crows and they could storm the house, but then he'd have to share the toast and he might not even get any. His brothers and sisters were notoriously greedy, after all. No, he couldn't ask for help, couldn't risk any of the precious toast. Not even a single raisin could go to someone else. So Lars thought. Perhaps there was another way to gain entry?  He eyed the house. There was a door, of course, for the humans to enter through, but he couldn't open it by himself. There was the chimney, but anyone inside the house would almost certainly notice a soot-streaked crow flying out of the fireplace. He studied the house some more and noticed a discolored patch in the bottom of the door. Lars took the risk of flying a little closer and saw that it was a cat flap, designed so that the vile beast could slink in and out as it pleased. He cawed to himself in displeasure. The perfect entry point, but the cat would be a problem. Just then he heard it- the sound of pure undiluted evil, the sound of terror and ugliness and death- 

Mrrow. 

The beast slunk through the cat flap, horrible feline eyes glittering, paws making no noise on the snow, tail waving menacingly. Lars held very still, enthralled by the horror of the beast before him. He had never actually seen a cat, but he had heard stories. His brother Jeffrey, carried off by a cat almost as soon as he hatched. One-eyed Olaf, who had lost the use of his right eye after a nasty encounter with a neighborhood cat. The threats his mother used to make to keep him and his siblings in the nest, saying that if they fell, the cats would get them. The creature yawned, baring its milky-white fangs, then sat down and began to wash itself vigorously. Lars waited, frozen in fear, until it had finished. Then it stood, stretched, and wandered down the path into the woods. Lars waited for several moments, in case the vile beast was tricking him, but it didn't reappear. He cautiously stepped along the branch. Nothing. Then he went for it, diving towards the door and crashing through the cat flap into the house. He cawed involuntarily in surprise before righting himself and looking around. There were lots of big, unidentifiable shapes. He took off into the air so as to get a better view and there it was, beautiful and practically shining in his vision, the raisin toast. He perched on the suface it was on, telling himself it was just a smooth, flat tree, and edged towards it when his attention was distracted by a bright yellow object. He paused to study it. It reminded him a bit of the ducks in a nearby pond that he and his siblings sometimes hung out with. it had tiny black dots that looked like eyes, a wide orange beak like a duck's, and a turned-up tail. Lars concluded it wasn't a threat and moved on to the raisin bread, but he felt a little disturbed, like the beady black eyes were following him, watching his every move. He inched towards his prize, stretching his neck out to reach for it, all the while keeping one eye on the miniature duck. He touched the toast with his beak and quickly pulled back, expecting a reaction. None came. Lars hesitantly picked up a piece of toast in his beak and began tearing into it. Still no reaction. He swallowed the toast and reached hesitantly for the rest when he heard the click, click, click of claws on the hard floor. He looked up slowly, spotting the cat as it entered the house and its head immediately swiveled towards him, its terrifying eyes locked onto him. It crouched, ears flattening, and stalked towards him. Lars panicked, grabbing the rest of the toast and kicking off, his sweeping claw knocking the duck onto the floor. The cat sprang back, spitting in surprise as the duck landed right in front of it, nearly causing it to trip. Lars was looking around frantically for an exit. The cat flap was no longer an option, not with the vicious beast guarding it. He flew into a hallway and the nearest turn had him in luck because the window was open. The cat was just below him, leaping to try and catch him with claws fully extended. It jumped just as he swooped for the window and managed to snag a pawful of tail feathers. Lars narrowly avoided crashing into the snow and instead flapped his way into the nearest tree. He dropped the toast carefully onto the branch and cawed in relief. He looked towards the window of the house, only to feel a slight shiver of horror as he saw the cat pawing at the open window, as if trying to get out...

There you go. Make up your own ending. 

top