Home Run

The crowd cheered on as the Red Team's batter was at the ready. The batter, as old as the other players, stood his ground as he positioned himself, his hands gripping onto his bat, his eyes locked onto the Yellow Team's pitcher. The pitcher looked at the score board, his team was 5 points behind Red. He knew his thrown would determine how far the batter can hit, if he can hit the thrown ball at all.

As soon as it was time, the Yellow pitcher threw the ball with all his might. His veins were pumped up as soon as the ball was heading toward the Red team's batter.

The batter felt a force from the ball as it began to slightly push him even after he hit it with his bat. Keeping his grip, he used both of his hands to swing the bat like a great axe, and into the air the ball went.

"Will it be a home run!?" said the commentator in the giant box reserved for him to survey the game.

The Yellow team's players were all over the place as their batter began his rounds running. The ball began to plunder to the grown, and Yellow team member #9 saw the perfect opportunity to catch it.

But the ball curved just before his glove could touch it, and went up. The ball stood in the air, prompting everyone else's eyes to pay attention. From both sides, the ball spewed out wings, and in the front, a beak.

"I can't believe it, the ball has turned into, a bird?" the commentator recalled as the flying baseball was now flying away.

The winged baseball went miles and miles away from the baseball field. It felt relieved to had escaped at place, and it could sense the cool smooth air of the forest just by the feel of it. It went up onto a branch, where a nest was present.

In that nest, were other winged baseballs like it. This winged baseball in particular, was now home to its kind.