The Owl's Flight

Sprick’s face contorted as he could do nothing but watch as the oak-carved owl made its graceless descent to the ground as it flew from its usual nesting place atop of the fireplace. Even if he had dove from behind the counter, he wouldn’t have made it in time to save the old memento from its damnable fate. And with a shout, a scream, and a screech, his beloved wooden owl was splintered across the floor.
“Justin!!! Whatever are you doing?! I taught you MUCH better manners than this!” berated the overly-dressed elven mother. Her eccentric way of speech went hand in hand with her crimson red ballroom gown.
Sprick made his way past the two and knelt over the owl’s corpse. Its head had remained intact, the birds’ body had broken into at least a dozen parts. While it was carved from a piece of solid wood, perhaps its strength had weakened over the ages.
The sullen boy looked up from the bird’s remains on the floor and turned right to Sprick. Tears had already begun welling in the corners of his eyes. “Ah! I- I’m sthory sthir! I-I-I didn’t mean chew!” The boy and his mother had been in the store for more than an hour, but this was the first time he had talked. His right front tooth was missing, and when he finally spoke, it came with a whistle.
“At least you know to apologize. Why, you’re lucky you didn’t lose your other front tooth, young mister!” The mother’s face went from scornful to sorrowful as she turned towards Sprick and pleaded. “I’m ever so sorry for this, Mr. Grimmer, sir! Why, I do hope you’ll somehow forgive my clumsy little child here now.”
Forgive your…? That word had reminded Sprick just why that owl was so precious.

---

A glimmering wave of red liquid beads and shards of glass flew into the air as the bottle of healing potion exploded against the floor, right at the feet of a young and panicked Sprick.
“Oh no! I’m so, so, sooo sorry mister! Please don’t get mad! I-… I’ll go get another! I’m sure there’s more!” yelped Sprick as he tried to fix his mistake. “The hell are you doin’, yah damn kid!?! God damnit!!! I waited three weeks for that potion and when I finally get it, yah smash the fucking thing in front’a me?! There ain’t anymore of those anywhere round here, yah damn fuckin’ brat!” The man readied his hand to hit Sprick, but was stopped as Sprick’s father stepped in.
“Now, now there Riley, no need to get riled up. ER! No pun intended!” The man’s rage increased as Ernest tried to calm him down. “Please do try to forgive my son; he was only trying to help. My legs aren’t what they used to be, you see and-“
“Forgive my arse, Ernest! Yah damn prick! No way in hell am I paying for my order after yer dumbfuck son broke it, n’ especially not after you fucked up my order the bloody first damn time! If I didn’t know any better, I’d call the guard n’ have you tossed intah prison for runnin’ a sham!” The ranger stomped his way over to the store’s exit and spat out one last remark. “You n’ yer damn elven bastard can kiss my business goodbye.“ The ranger shouted it as loud as he could to make sure the rest of the town heard, and slammed the door behind him with a bang.
Not a moment sooner had Sprick’s knees given out, and he was on the ground and balling his eyes out. Sprick had made a mistake or two once before, but never had an accident caused a customer to react so aggressively. And with how bad things’ve been as of late for the store, he was one of the three customers they had seen in weeks.
“Come now, Sprick’s. Accidents are bound to happen, yes? Do not fret, my child.” Sprick father brushed off a tear from his cheek. “See this now, my son? I’ve been working on this for some time now, but let it be a reminder for you.” He pulled out his most recent project from his pocket and into his son’s hands. “Please, learn to forgive him my son; to forgive others. Show kindness to others, not anger nor wrath. Let this be a valuable lesson, and let this owl symbolize that. And please, dare you not forget it.”

---

“Oh, just thank the heavens, and thank you ever so kindly Mr. Grimmer, sir!” spouted the eccentric mother as Sprick handed her their purchase.
“A pleasure doing business ma’am! I’m just happy you were able to find what you needed!” replied Sprick.
“I don’t know what we’d’ve done if we couldn’t get my hands on any coal! Isn’t that right, Markus? The least you can say is ‘Thank you!’”
The boy turned his face away, still too afraid to face Sprick, and gave a shy thanks. He was still clearly sullen over the ordeal. Perhaps a punishment was looming in the horizon for the poor lad.
“Hey there. Justin, was it? Come now; accidents like these happen time n’ again, don’t they?” Sprick gave the boy a smile as he did his best to comfort him. He handed a wrapped piece of candy his way in an effort to cheer them up. “Chin up now, eh?”
The boys’ soured face had brightened up instantly as he was reassured, and gleefully he took the candy; his smile missing a tooth or two. As he and his mother took their leave of the store, he turned around and gave Sprick one last hearty wave before continuing on his way. Sprick looked down at the broken pieces of the owl on the counter, and gave a sigh. Woodcarving was one of the few skills Sprick never did pick up from his father. But perhaps maybe now was the time to try once more.