Injured, Samba the crow hopped about hoping to either get his wings going or find an appropriate tyre to end his misery. He had been hopping for over an hour, not that he had any idea how long it had been. To him, it just seemed like a complete waste of his time and energy. Especially when he should have been out collecting food for his newborn. And with dusk approaching, it seemed more and more unlikely that he would get any food for them tonight. Or that he would even make it.

How he had fallen into this predicament still remained a mystery to him. He was simply flying in a downward motion with the smoothness always evident of crows ready to pick up a large piece of roti. That would have fed the nest for a good three days. And he could have used that time for collecting some foliage . . . → Read More: Fighting through barriers