Episode 4: One week of poaching later...
NOTE: This is FICTION. But it has a lot of fact about the wildlife trade. Deepak Dalal, if you can read this, know you've inspired me to make this, senpai.
DAY 1:
Alright, I'm just preaching to the choir here, but I'm going to recap for our readers.
My dad (because I'm a human who transformed into this urvogel) drove us all this way. He was very onboard with this plan, because he said, and I quote, "She needs to be able to survive without us because we won't go with her to IISc or anywhere else". It was a dreary couple of hours, but at least I didn't have to comb my hair much. When we got there, I was yeeted towards the nearest tree, and then I made my best impression of a drongo, facilitated by my urvogel syrinx!
I'm just going to skip a lot of the stuff that happened, but long story short, there were poachers. And I'm now in a cage. This end of the call is in a truck, and it's a terrible place to be in. I want water, but nobody's giving it to me. I'm not dying, though, because I've got hope.
DAY 2:
I somewhat recognise this place. Yay! I'm in Crawford Market! Why am I "yay"-ing? I'd be happier if I were here outside of a cage. But well, I've found inmates. Parakeets. They're fun to talk to, but getting them bored is easy. Rose-ringed, plum-headed, slaty-headed, maroon-pauldroned! They've got STORIES to tell. Like, Bloomsip, have you ever been to Rose Garden? It sounds pretty exciting. Falcons! Long-thread paradise flycatchers! Flamingos who get lost! It is, unfortunately, back home. Bruh. At least they're not weirded out by my ability to speak English.
DAY 3:
What do you want?! I'm thirsty, hungry, and an insomniac, but at least nobody else is in my cage! If I don't pick up your calls, there's nothing worth noting that happened that day.
DAY 6:
Okay, so I've been feeling somewhat lonely, because most of the keets are sold or dead by now. But... I've got some interesting news! A kid spotted me. They nearly blew my cover! To quote them, "Look, Mommy, an Archaeopteryx!" These are the first and last words I wanted to hear. Kids' books on dinosaurs mainly feature bright green or Archeops-coloured urvogels, so that means they've got "Dinosaurs and Other Prehistoric Life" or the dinosaur-fandom Internet at their home! Them tattling to the news is what I fear most. "Stuffed and on display in the Berlin museum" is now a very real scenario, unless the mother knows her child has a vivid imagination.
Oh, and there's a very annoyed locksmith catnapping on the floor.
DAY 7: (ENTIRELY TEXT)
Crud.
There's someone who looks like a scientist approaching.
Can't ask them whom they work for.
Someone asked!
They're from the GSU of ISI Kolkata!
Uh-oh.
:skull:
:shocked_pikachu:
:puff:
I'm now being spritzed because I bit them.
Irony.
It's Saswati Bandhyopadhyay.
AAAAAAshe'sfeelingmytailbonesAAAAAAA
Parakeets free!
Kid's family now paying for me!
Ignore anything Inshorts says about this.
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