Qeya River i'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning

sparrow had grown to the size of a proper russet potato, one large enough for baking over a campfire on a cool autumn's night. in all his rounded glory, he also experienced the disadvantages to being a pot-belly, one of them being the incapable use of the stubby things called limbs. his weight left him rolling rather than crawling, and so while snugged up against the warmth of his mother, he felt a calling for a greater purpose. or perhaps it was just a calling to release the gas built up in his gut. 

either way he took muscle, blubber and everything in between and rolled about an inch to the left before a burp and toot escaped him in a blast of gas. were he older he would have blamed it on the wind, but given his lack of hearing, sight, and overall good judgment, he let his silent gift hit his little family with a satisfied smile glued to his lips.