“How was your night, Dana?”

Dana rolled her eyes and stretched her wings lazily. “Eh, my new nest isn’t as comfortable as last year’s, but I’m making it work.”

Coral nodded in agreement. “Mine's not great either. Too much noise and light all night long—I don’t know how anyone can sleep through that nonsense.”

She leaned in, lowering her voice. “On a different note, I overheard Roger talking about a new feeding spot. He says it’s incredible—tons of nuts, seeds, fruit, flowers, and of course, insects.”

A glint sparked in her eyes. “Wanna go check it out?”

Dana lifted her head, curiosity piqued. “Outstanding options, huh? Alright, let’s see what all the fuss is about.”

Dana and Coral glided toward the new feeding spot, wings catching the soft breeze. As they neared an imposing willow oak, their eyes widened in disbelief.

This little corner was beyond anything they could have imagined. The grand oak stood like a sentinel, its sprawling branches draped in lush, green leaves that shimmered in the sunlight and offered perfect protection from prying eyes above.

Below, several sturdy branches crisscrossed to create natural perches, surrounded by wild columbine, marsh violets, wild geranium, and meadow rue. The air was thick with fragrance—sweet, earthy, and utterly intoxicating.

A gentle symphony filled the grove: the soft whistles of sparrows, the rhythmic tapping of a woodpecker, the melodic chatter of finches and wrens.

Coral landed lightly beside Dana and whispered, “This is what I imagine paradise looks like.”

“The sights, the smells, the sounds…” Dana twirled mid-air and fluffed her feathers. “It’s just—perfection. How did we not know about this place?”

Coral chuckled. “No idea, but I say we get in line for the feeder. I’m starving.”

“You go ahead. I want to take it all in first. I’ll catch up.”

While Coral joined a group of finches near the feeder, chatting and waiting her turn, Dana perched quietly on a fence just beyond the tree’s edge. She breathed in deeply, her senses alight—except for one.

Her sense of danger.

She didn’t notice how still the air had become. How the chatter quieted around her. She didn’t see the shadow, watching. Waiting.

The large tabby cat had been drawn to the oasis by the chorus of bird chatter echoing through the neighborhood. She moved low to the ground, her striped fur melting into the patchy shade.

With each careful step, she inched closer, slipping silently into a bush just feet from the fence. She wore no collar—no jingling bell to betray her approach. Her ears twitched at every flutter of wings, and her eyes locked on the lone bird perched apart from the others.

Coral’s sharp eyes flicked toward Dana, a sudden unease settling in her chest. The birds around them had gone unnervingly quiet, and something in the air felt too still.

Her gaze snapped to the fence, where the large tabby was already creeping forward, its eyes locked on Dana. Without thinking, Coral let out a loud, shrill shriek—a warning that sliced through the silence.

Dana’s instincts kicked in. With a panicked flutter, she shot straight up into the branches of the willow oak, her heart racing. The cat’s claws swiped the air just beneath her, missing by inches.

Coral followed swiftly, landing beside her friend on the highest, most secure branch. They sat, panting, for a few moments, letting the danger slip away. The sounds of the grove returned, though the tension in the air lingered.

Dana leaned her head into Coral’s soft feathers, grateful beyond words. “Thank you.”

Coral’s wing wrapped around Dana protectively. “It’s what I’m here for.”

They sat in the stillness for a moment longer, Dana’s thoughts heavy. Finally, she sighed, her voice quieter than usual. “I guess there’s no such thing as paradise…”