PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook
They were always getting blown out of their homes. She couldn’t stand it. She knew how it felt to be homeless, especially for a youngling. And she’d seen the devastation of parents who’d returned to find some force had swept their babies off to unknown and worse places. She knew about being lost.
She was going to stop it.
At least for them.
Surely if she built it, they will come.
She kept checking and almost despaired, but one morning … there they were.
“Welcome home,” she whispered to the first eggs laid.