Basic Thaumaturgy for the Emotionally Incompetent

Mercy the Clucklebeak loved rye bread. Fabrisse had tested multiple types of bread to see if any held Mercy’s attention as much as the beloved rye, and it had proved to be a difficult task.

Mercy paddled in delighted circles across the surface of the North Pond, trailing little spirals of ripples behind him like calligraphy strokes. The moment Fabrisse tossed a chunk of rye bread into the water, he darted after it. His downy yellow feathers bobbed with each motion, and his tiny webbed feet kicked up lazy swishes beneath the surface.

The rye floated briefly, then vanished in a flurry of delighted quacks and splashy chomps.