Unearthed
Thunder rustles in the sky as lightning blows the surface. Rain veils around the town of Mala, gleaming the street lights of gold, the moonlight bestowing more of its luminous shine. The Church of Amen is locking up for the night. The Sisters strolling about their way around the orphanage, making sure the orphan children were in bed.
Sister Elizabeth, a woman at this time in her late 40s, busy shutting the curtains to the windows near the corridor in the church. Her wings reached up, undoing the laces that held the curtains open, sagging them down to enclose the hazy glass of condensation. Finishing up, she pauses as she provides attention to the wailing outside. Her three-toed bird feet calmly march up to the tall front doors down the long corridor, only to find the source of the noise right in front of her on the doorstep.
There bundled up in a brown half tore cloth, rested an unidentified baby, an infant whose species is uncommon. Sister Elizabeth never saw an extraordinary creature like this newborn before. Her torso bends down with her knees, carefully picking up the creature baby, holding it in her arms. Her eyes darted around, looking for any indication of probable parents, or parent, to abandon such a virtuous soul in these conditions. But alas, the streets were vacant, with no energy or noises but the rain hitting structures, automobiles, and mother earth herself.
Sister Elizabeth brought it inside, closing and locking the doors with one wing. A group of other religious Sisters down the hall were whispering to each other, as it was not their first. She walks down the corridor, towards their resting library. Her feathers rested as she sat in her fluffy armchair, examining the poor child. Sister Elizabeth's eyes water up, feeling an over the sensation of sympathy, uncovering its face from the cloth.
"Another one?" Asked one of the Sisters, stepping into the room. "We. We don't have room for another one. The compartments are filled."
"Well, check again," Conceded Sister Elizabeth, gently wiping off the tears on the infant's tiny blue face.
"With all due respect, Sister.." Her paw makes a cross pattern over her body before she begins again. With her paws folded lightly, "... We don't have to recount. They're taken."
"Make room, Sister Laya. Or I will have to do it myself," Said Sister Elizabeth, with a harsh manner to her voice. "As God as my witness.." She murmurs, "..I will keep giving a roof over children's heads until their youth is no longer. No matter who. No matter… what."
Sister Laya sighs, comprehending her circumstance and determination. Her head nods in approval. "Yes, Sister."
