Haunted Wood Abbott's babbler

stationed as a floating fish washed ashore the riverbed, the yearling lay drenched, submerged neck down in the gentle embrace of the water's current. he'd been here for half a day, waiting for rainfall to creep higher and tease his lips with sweetened execution. 

the flutter of birds overhead finally drew him from his river casket. he stood, and what little bulk he might have fiend through fur was now glued to reveal the skeletal truth of him. haggard and emaciated, he looked as if on the verge of death. 

and yet with no visible sign of weakness or demise, he shook free some of the droplets that clung to him before turning to investigate what spooked the fledglings.