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A lone peep starts their journey to leave their mother’s nest, like most commoners of trees do. The rabbits live closer to the ground, ghosts lurk in sporadically placed housing, and maniacal snowmen hide in their frozen mountains. This peep didn’t have any siblings to socialize with, a lone egg. It didn’t have the toughest life per say, but it didn’t have the best either, given the circumstances.

Now, this peep is a rarity, for it was born to the family of royal golds. The royal yellow chicks ruled the maples just like the rabbits did the moors. However, unlike the blushed pink and vibrant greens of its subjects, or the royal sunflower of its family, this chick was a destined sky blue.

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The moment it hatched, our hero started to call, cry, and scream for attention. Any attention. Anything at all. But nobody came, for the chick’s parents were busy fighting off the moors. Nobody was left to attend for the egg, for everyone was helping the war effort. The only thing left for the chick was a basket of sugar and two (2) eye coverings. Now, all residents of this world have a natural instinct to sugar coat themselves; it keeps them warm in the winter and cool in the summer. So, following instinct, it waddled over to the basket, jumped in, and rolled around. After it coated itself to its liking, it curled up into its blankets and continued to sleep.

Now, the kingdoms of the land all speak one common language and a local one, the latter being understood from birth. [For the Peep Kingdom, imagine the local language as a mix of crow caws and owl hoots.] The chick, hearing this sound, awoke from its slumber and wearily hopped to search for the noise. Their first and only step along the way was a long, wide hallway, full of pictures of the past monarchs, unbeknownst to the chick. Thinking they found the source, the chick instead found a room, empty save for a lone mirror. And it was here that the chick saw itself: a small, sugary bird with sky blue skin. And, seeing pictures of the pinks and yellows in the hallway, the chick realized something was very, very wrong.

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After waddling out of the room, the little chick felt the tang of hunger pulling at its stomach. So, it did the simple thing and went to eat the shell of the egg it was born from. (Cause what else would it do? Hunt for food with its 3-hour-old beak?) After about half an hour, feeling full, the peep hopped back into its bed and fell asleep in the mess of blankets.

~Later~

An aged peep, yellow and scared by time, hops into the royal nursery after a particularly long restroom break (there was quite the wait for a supposedly empty castle). As the caretaker, he was one of the remaining few in the castle and was left to watch over the royal egg; it was bound to hatch any day now, and it seems today was the day. The shell was half eaten, and in the nearby blankets laid a sky blue peep. All accordingl- Wait. Sky blue? From a yellow chick dynasty? This was... not right. At all. Unsure of what to do, the elder let the hatchling slumber and hobbled to one of the only other birds still present.

~~~

“War, War is always the same.” No, that doesn’t sound right. UGH! Your name is NIETZSCHE (Neet) AVALOS and you’re kinda stressing out. You are the KING of the bird kingdom, and 99.9% of your kingdom, including your WIFE, is out fighting the Moors for reasons lost to time. You’re only in the castle because "someone needs to hold down the fort." Unfortunately, that also means that you’re stuck with the duty of addressing the remaining 0.1% of personnel not fighting. And speeches aren’t your thing. Neither is public speaking. Or any social interaction for that matter. Why the hell are you king, anyways? HOW are you king? Questions for later. Anyways, as stated, speeches are not your forte. This is why it’s a huge relief when the royal caretaker hops into your room, panting like the poor old bird ran from the nursery.

“Hello there, Jack, what brings you here? Also, why are you so out of breath?”

“Morning, your Majesty. And I just ran from the nursery, sir.” Huh. Well whaddya know?

“Please, Jack, we’ve been over this. Call me Neet when we’re in casual conversation.”

“Sorry, Sir, but, I have News of the child.” Jack looks extremely concerned. This is a Code Orange “Uh-oh.”

“What’s wrong, jack?”

“The egg hatched-”

“Really? That’s wonderful news!”

“The chick, however, is blue.”

“...blue?”

“As blue as the morning sky, Sir.” Huh. Things just got interesting. Who needs a dumb speech anyways, right?

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There’re swords clashing, burrows exploding, and enough arrows to block out the Sun. Cannonballs flying every direction, nowhere is safe. The hum of the dragonfly division is ringing in all directions, but the volume is dying down by the second. You name is SKYLAR (Skye) AVALOS, QUEEN of the PEEP KINGDOM, and you are at war. The Moors, ages ago, had declared war on your great-great-grandfather, and you’re still fighting. Nobody really knows why anymore. But as the piles of white and blue bunny corpses grows taller and the pit of broken battle-pogos grows deeper, morale is rising and hope is being restored. This *will* be the end. This will *not* be your child’s duty to take care of, or your name isn’t SK-

You’re brought out of your train of thought by crying. Not just normal crying, but baby crying, (It's more like a banshee wail, but who cares) and it's starting to annoy you. Actually, it's really annoying, and you're going to find it before anyone else for the sole reason of bragging rights. And you find it. Well, “Find,” more like tripping over a mound of dirt which let out a surprised cry and cried harder. Looking down, you see (unsurprisingly) a baby bunny, red as the summer sun. Wait. It's red. Bunnies aren't red. Maybe you can use this… Grabbing the bunny, you call for the nearest soldier to give you some form of cloth. In return, you get a sock. Damn it.

“Can i get a blanket or something? Check the Corpse of the bunnies, they usually have them.”

Lo and behold, you were presented with a surprisingly soft blanket. Naturally, you try to wrap the baby up. It bites through the blanket. WHY. Why does everything have to be so DAMN difficult?! You end up taking the basket of the nearest broken pogo and put it in with the blanket scraps. Actually, this pogo is smaller than usual, maybe you can take it back? And by maybe, you mean you're taking it and are already telling the next in command he's in charge.

Of course, he falls and is rendered brain dead 2 seconds later, so you go to whoever was below him, tell her to not fall, and hightail it back to the castle. Things just got a lot more interesting. Who needs to fight a war anyways, right?

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