The stork coloured white, its feathers were smooth and glossy as it stood a larger than average height; standing out among his peers. The tips of its wings were black and they were currently spread out, open feeling the cool breezes of winds against the feathered overall of the bird. Its beak coloured a bright and outstanding sheen of orange and so did its legs. They too were in the air, but with a controlled dangling motion they jerked every now and then.

Wispy clouds motion pass the mobile stork and its head was locked on. To where? It too did not know. It just flew; past snowy and green mountains and clear, murky lakes, occasionally resting. The seas crash against the lines of beaches and the motion pulled, and pushed. It was travelling to a location that was bound to be paradise, it concluded.

The beauty of the scenery that it had flew by and perhaps too rest were beautiful. Untouched nature and a very rare diamond in the rough. Unpolished and bond to be found by the humanoid creatures that were common in its land the stork pondered. Nature’s instincts took over so the thought vanished without a trace. Focus, we are yet to arrive. The stork merely submitted to the unknown’s ‘voice’. Silently, but with presence the bird merely flapped its wings as far as it could carry. Until rest, meal and the arrival of an unknown land.

Throughout the journey, the stork had experienced many troubles. Smooth journeys were a rare one as predators lurked every now and then. A chase of life and death would follow yet the self-less being paid no mind. Instincts, which was all it had and should just have. A sense of self laid present-less in the beautiful existence of the bird. The unnoticeable crown that had laid adorned on its snowy white head grew brighter each day. Its glow of a brief rainbow flashed and its round brown eyes brightened. No yet, the leech of a conscious said, not yet. Below natures plains smoothed and a field on grass grew visible. Untamed grasses, still-growing trees reached out to the skies as it tilted towards the position to the ever-glowing sun. Living beings labelled by the names ‘lions’ and ‘antelope’ were plentiful. Weights of such breath-taking beauty intensified and gravity suddenly increased.

It was intense when the stork had a sudden realization of the increase of its heartbeat. Thump, thump, thump; the former soothing and rhythmic beat disappeared and only the feeling of accomplishment remained. Through rains and storms. A light-less sky and a warm yet cool day. For days, weeks it traveled. Despite the raging need to land it was still not time. Sooner, closer, now a lake took appearance. The nature was untouched, fished swam in schools, plentiful and predators such as ‘crocodiles’ lurked. The scent of home, the feeling of it embraced the child of Mother Nature. What came next was the view of its own kind. A flock of them, it. Tiny bickers and calls echoed throughout the entire area surrounding them. The loudest bunch and, most comfortable one to the ever-lonely stork. Only the unknown voice had accompanied it and the bird long tired of its presence.

The crown atop its head now shined its brightest, informing its peers of its joy. They too responded with equal enthusiasm and the gleeful group now looked like a bunch on half-lit stars. Lighting up the area of setting sun. The area was magnificently large, be it green lands or clear water. The scent of earth soaks the space and sounds of the stork’s brothers and sisters squabble with life. An unknown entity’s activity had died down and its voice no longer heard in the depths of the birds mind. In a nonchalant matter, the stork settled down its feathers and its journey ended. A faint glow penetrated the source of peace and an animistic figure took place. A magnificent scene incomparable to the bird’s sights that’d the snowy feathers being had ever laid eyes on was taking place. Space was being ripped apart and the area around it warped in a circular motion. Paradise was close; move, take flight. The landing is not now, not yet. The Unknown took voice yet again. Wings spread out, like a ritualistic dance of glowing winged-fairies but this time of company, they took off. Following.