Moonbrim
Wren and the Endless Drop
The nest was empty, the drop below endless, and Wren was the only one left too scared to jump. A gentle bedtime story about one cold night alone, a mother who called instead of catching, and the moment falling turned into flying. For every little one facing something new all by themselves.
The nest was empty, drop below endless. The old oak stood tall above meadow. Her fellow robins already soared far below.
Her stubby wings trembled at the edge. She curled back inside, small and safe again. Night came, and her nest grew cold.
Alone and cold, she watched the sky. Dawn came soft, and a gentle wind rose. Far below, her mother called out just once.
Her mother called once, not to catch. She closed her eyes and stepped forward. Her small wings caught the wind and held.
The gap she feared became her sky.