Heartbeat
This is madness. No one could have helped him nor could anyone have known what he had been through, because no one was there. Except for one small creature.
It was only dawn when I was soaring above the meadow, covered in dew and a thin coat of hovering mist. I opened my beak to let out a powerful cry which got carried miles away with the cold wind. I didn't know where I was going: I couldn't even see the borders of the meadow. I flew down some feet to taste the cool damp of mist and winter. Everyone had headed off to the south long before the first frost and I was left forgotten and out of memory. Nobody ever liked me in the first place, let alone missing me when leaving. I heard some coughing farther off, and I followed the sound to find an old-aged human leaning against one of the few trees around. He looked awful. I set feet on the ground and slowly hipped closer. Humans are not to be trusted, even in an ill condition. The majority of his face was covered by a scarf. When he saw me, he slowly removed the scarf from his mouth to form one meaningful word: Help. That's when he sank to his knees and lost all power to move his body. Then I saw a big red spot on his stomach. Gunshot. I've been around humans and war long enough to recognize a shot. I didn't know what to do. What could I, a sparrow, do? Humans don't understand birds. They are too stupid. So dim-witted they even start a war against their own species. I decided I could at least keep the poor man company and I hopped closer and sat on his knee. He reached for me with shaking cold hands and carefully rubbed my belly. His eyes were watery and he let out a faint cry. A cry of relief? Sadness? The man laid down in the grass and closed his eyes. I could feel his heartbeat slowly fade away until nothing was left for the world.