Then he waddled away (waddle waddle)

Tyrian had found the perfect playmate. His little buddy didn't bite or kick. She didn't run to daddy if he was too rough. Occasionally she protested, but after he said he was sorry they always got on swimmingly again. Or at least she gave him another chance to play nice. Granted, he's had to work hard to get her, but she'd been worth it. The momma bird had been determined not to let them play, but in the end he'd been too smart for her and now he had a bird friend.

And she was a good friend! The tiny, pale gray cygnet was better than any sibling in his opinion. He could pounce on her and roll her around, and she wouldn't bite him back or scream in his face. As far as he could tell, the little bird couldn't smile but the way she held her mouth open all the time kinda looked like a grin so that's what he was going to assume it was. And she loved to play chase! She would wait until he wasn't looking and then take off super fast. It was fun and all to chase her, but she was kind of predictable. She always tried to run to the water.

Hoping to help the baby swan improve her game, Tyrian flopped down on the ground in front of her and then wedged her between his paws so she was forced to look up at him. ”Look little lady,” he said in his best Dad voice. ”You're fun to play with and all, but you gotts to had var-arity. It's just no fun to chase you to the same place every time. It's just not. You should run to the bush, okay?” He used his nose to point to the shrub. When the little bird failed to look in the direction he was pointing, Tyrian used his paws to turn her head for her. ”There, see? That one! We're gonna practice, okay? I'm gonna look over here and you're gonna run over there, okay?”

He released the cygnet, turned his head away, and made a show of being distracted. After a few seconds he peeked back to make sure she had moved. Much to his pleasure, she had. Excitedly he turned to look at the bush...and immediately his joy was shattered. She wasn't there. Tyrian whipped around just in time to see the baby swan frantically leap into the water.

”No that's wrong!” he shouted as he dove into the water after her. Both went under, the swan with a scared squeak and the boy with an annoyed growl. Tyrian surfaced with the cygnet in his mouth and both he and the bird made similar noises to the ones they'd made going under. The boy then hauled his captive to shore and plopped her down in front of him. He lifted a paw and shook it at her scoldingly. ”That's bad, ducky. You were suppos'ta go to the bush. That one right there,” he said with dismay. ”It's no fun if you don't play right.”

The boy was dismayed for all of two seconds and then he perked up again. He was just going to have to give her another shot. Perhaps she'd gotten confused.

After another round of scolding and further instructions, Tyrian released the little bird and waited to see what she would do. The swan, tired from her ordeal, lay still for several seconds before lurching to her feet. She stood with her mouth agape and blinked up at him with wary eyes. After a beat she shook out her feathers, gathered her resolve, and began to shuffle quickly towards the water.

Tyrian was on her in a flash. Angrily he batted her away from the water. Another lecture was on the tip of his tongue when a honk reached his ears and a shadow glided over his head. He had just enough time to recognize the shape before the mother swan began to beat him over the head with her wings.

”Ow! Wh- OW!” His protests devolved into wordless yelps as the swan managed to grab him by the scruff and use it as an anchor to better her aim. Her powerful wings mercilessly beat across his face as her beak twisted into his fur. He wasn't sure if swans had claws on their feet like he did, but if she did that would explain why each kick of her webbed feet to the back of his head stung so bad.

Tyrian didn't know what to do so he ran thinking she would let go and take his friend away.

She did not. At least not right away. Instead she hung on, her fury unabated, and continued to batter his face. Tyrian resorted to bucking like a bronco. He spun in circles, he kicked out his hind legs, he shook his head – all of this done while yelping and occasionally squealing whenever she got him in the eye.

Finally his paws found a stone to trip over and he was thrown to the ground with the swan still on top of him. He rolled and the bird was shaken loose. Without knowing exactly how he managed to do it, Tyrian was up and off like a shot before the swan even had time to stand up. He ran, still yelping, towards the tractor.

Birds, he decided, made terrible friends.