The big male California condor sidled around the clearing, passing near the eight other condors and a big bunch of ravens. He had his wings half-folded, apparently to show the big white underwing patches to best advantage. He bent his head forward so that the oranges, reds, yellows, and grays of his neck showed prominently. As he walked, he swung his body a little side to side, causing the wing patches to flash like they were lit up. He thought the mincing steps were a little sissy-ish, but that's what he felt he should do.
He stopped in front of one of the condors, sitting a little apart from the others. "Hey baby," he said, as he flashed her. "What do you think?"
"About what?"
"About me. Do you like what you see?"
"Well, let me think. You look just like me, except your crop is rather inflated, and your neck colors are a little brighter than mine. I assume that's because of your mission. I think your little mincing dance is a bit off-putting. I could do without that."
"You don't feel any special stirrings when you look at me?" He flashed his wings at her, again.
"I don't know. Maybe. Your colors are attractive. Still, when I look at you, I just see a big vulture. Not only that, but I can imagine - well, actually I saw you - that only a few minutes ago, you had your head and neck stuffed deep into that deer carcass. Not a great memory."
"Well, I think you look swell."
"Thanks, but I suspect you're just saying that because you want to get in my cloaca."
He laughed a little tentatively. "Well, yeah, but not just for that reason. I mean..."
She sighed. "Just get on with it."
"Really?" He started to move behind her. "Well, you know the drill... Oops, maybe an unfortunate choice of words there, but..."
"Just how old do you think I am? I'm only seven."
He stopped where he was. "Whoa! So, we're talking barely legal. Well, that's okay. I'll explain as we go along. I'll just get behind you here..."
"On our first date?"
He felt his crop deflating, and his overall libido seemed to be decreasing. He hoped he could keep it up. "Look, honey, we're not talking about just a little bit of fun, here. I think we should maybe consider it our patriotic duty."
"Well, that's a line I haven't heard before. How is it our patriotic duty?"
"You know as a species, we're almost extinct. Every year, we lose more of us than we gain. With so few of us of breeding age, and with our reproductive abilities pretty low - one egg every two years! - it just seems like those of us who can should give it our all. I mean, think of it as for the species!"
"Well, that is a new one. I get your point - well, you'd like me to get your point - but it still seems like a sacrifice. You do your little job behind me, then go on your merry way. I get to sit alone in a dark cave for about two months waiting for an egg to hatch..."
"No, babe, it wouldn't be like that. I'd stick around. I'd even sit on the egg once in a while, so you could get out and stretch your wings."
"Well, that's something. Anyway, the egg finally hatches, and out comes a little ball of fluff. Apparently, we can't even tell if it's Junior or Missy. They don't come equipped with pink or blue neck rings. They say you'd have to dissect it to know its sex, for sure. I might just be ready to dissect it by then, but I know. It's our patriotic duty.
"So, Missy or Junior free-loads off us for about a year, then flies off - probably doesn't even say thanks. Hopefully, it lives long enough to replace one of us."
"Great story, right? Survival of the species. In two years, we're still young, so..."
"Yeah, I know the drill."
"For god and country," he yelled from behind her.
"For the species," she sighed.
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