“Corn?”
I can’t see her, but I can hear her. Somewhere in a different area she is moving things around. If I can hear her, she can hear me, so again I call out.
“Corn?”
The noises pause. I take my food dish in my beak and bang it against the side of my cage. Metal clangs on metal to carry my signal.
I stop and I listen. Three faint beeps come in response.
I send a whistle to her, but she does not reply. That's fine. She must be finding me the corn.
Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep.
The high pitched alert travels to me and I stretch my neck in its direction. My wings lift automatically; my body prepares to take flight toward the source of corn.
But my wings have been clipped and though my cage door is open, I can no longer fly. I bang my food dish again and I wait.
She comes carrying the scent of warm corn, and I make the sound of water. Water is love. Water is life. She replies with friendly noises and pets my beak before putting the corn in my food dish.
Again I make the sound of water. The sound of appreciation.
She says something back, but I have stopped listening.
I’m now very focused on eating my corn.
Inspired by the 5 Minute Freewrite Prompt - Corn provided by the lovely 
