The early morning light was just beginning to touch the fast-food parking lot. 

Sid, a bundle of stress and rumpled feathers, rummaged through a half-open bin, his beak clattering against discarded wrappers.

“I’m still hungry!” chirped Sammy, his chick, a fluffy, inexhaustible ball of need.

“Guv’nor’s on the job, just a sec, kiddo,” Sid muttered. He eventually found a chip and tossed it toward his noisy kid. 

But before Sammy could get to it, Patches the pigeon waddled up, head cocked to one side.

“Is this… is this one of those crunchy things that are soft?” Patches asked, eyes wide with genuine confusion. “I once tried to eat one, but it was hard and didn’t taste like anything.”

Sid glared. “Clear off, Patches. I’m busy, ain’t I?”

“Oh! Is it a game of finding the things you can’t see?” the pigeon chirped. “I’m proper good at that! I once thought I found a whole sandwich, but it was just a shadow. My beak went right through it! It was like eating air.” Patches looked sad for a moment but quickly perked up .

“I bet I could eat air, though. It’s probably cold, but not as cold as ice cream!”

Sid’s feathers bristled with annoyance. “I don’t care about shadows or air! Can’t a seagull get some grub for his boy in peace? This ain’t for you!” He guarded his scraps, a fierce look in his eyes.

“Why are you so vexed? Is it because you can’t eat shadow food? What about that shiny metal monster over there?” Patches babbled, gesturing to a car. “It looks asleep. Perfect time to strike. I flew into one once. They’re tough but I’m not sure they’re bad.”

Sid groaned, pushing a fry toward Patches in hope of shutting the chattering bird up. “Take it. Now give us some peace.”

Patches, ecstatic, grabbed the fry. “Oh! Thank you! Is it… is it a key? Does it open a secret treasure box?”

Suddenly, the rambling was replaced by a single, shrill scream. “FOX!” The shriek was closely followed by a panicked blur as Patches shot into the air. Sid’s heart leaped into his throat. He looked up just as a flash of red fur appeared from behind a parked car.

Without a second thought, Sid nudged Sammy and they both soared away, leaving the half-eaten meal behind.

From the safety of a rooftop, they watched the fox, Finley, nose through the discarded food. It’s rare for foxes to be seen in the morning, as they typically only come out at night. Evidently, Finley was feeding a hungry family too, and last night’s catch wasn’t enough. He took what he wanted and then disappeared as quickly as he’d arrived.

Sid and Sammy descended carefully, surveying the aftermath. The fox had been surprisingly tidy, leaving a few morsels around. Patches, looking dazed, fluttered down next to them.

The pigeon was, as usual, the first to break the silence. “That monster was something else. I could feel it. It had… too many teeth. It was like a bicycle with teeth.”

Sid, now full of a relief so profound it made his feathers feel light, looked at Patches. He nudged a fry toward the pigeon. “Here,” he said, a genuine smile in his voice. “We’re all safe. And nah, that ain’t a bicycle. It’s a fox. You saved us.”

Patches beamed, gratefully pecking at the fry.

“Is it a weird, bony sandwich? I love those! Are they shiny?”

Sid simply shook his head, content to let the nonsense wash over him now. Somehow the food now tasted sweeter than any he’d ever had, and the three of them, an odd, blended family, watched the sun rise together, enjoying breakfast.