The Mystery of the Feathered Serpent

Once there was a farm cat who went by the name of Purroit, despite spending his days lazing about in the sunny spots that encompassed his human's field, he was also prided for the stripes on his downy coat of fur, most especially by the chicks--

"Mr. Purroit! Look at this art my sisters and I have made of you!", he heard little Chickie chirp, making her white down fluff up in excitement.

Purroit, to his credit, rolled from where he lay on his back to slowly peer at the curious arrangement of colorful leaves, the subsequent swishing of his tail the next indication that they've caught his full attention.

"I helped in picking out the best colored ones!", piped up Chickpea, her yellow down as sunny as per personality.

"Quite the masterpiece, indeed. The orange leaves do make me look like a tiger afterall. Though I won't be too sure your mother hen would approve of the thought of finding you three up in branch." his whiskers twitched in amusement as he laid his head on his white paws, planning on continuing his sunbathing.

"She won't! But it would make us less careful of that grey-black bird up in that tree!" the third chick, Chickette, chirruped worriedly, matching her darker yellow down.

Purriot's ears twitched at the mention of said bird, before proceeding to slowly stretch out his feline body coming up with an excuse that lunchtime might just be around the corner as he pattered off, the bird's beady eyes keeping a close watch on him.

You see despite his days spent lazing about in the farm, Purroit was still known as a local detective among his peers, and it seems like today was just one of those days.

"You really should teach those chicks of yours some manners." a dignified huff came from his left as Purriot spied the three plastic containers by the wall of the alleyway. Empty he grumbled inwardly, hoping for a quick snack before getting a case in his paws.

"Then you should learn to be more stealthy in your appearances instead, Noir." Purriot drawled, tucking his tail between his paws as he now faced his crow informant.

Another huff before Noir decided to get straight to business, his manner of speaking turning grim, "Our resident frogs have reported a sighting. There seems to be a murder in the pond."

On an otherwise calm afternoon, the croaking of frogs would have been the perfect white noise to match the slow day, but it would be a different matter if you actually understood each ribbit--

"It was a snaaaake! A snake took my sweet husband!", Mrs. Paud croaked, it was the one sound that overtook the many ribbits.

"But it had wings! A feathered serpent we saw!" also came in varying degrees of croaks from the army of frogs.

Purroit could not keep his tail from swishing in annoyance anymore as he intently stared at the purple heron who showed up for this impromptu hearing of the aggrieved amphibians.

"Heron, what have you to say of this overstep despite an existing treaty between you and Mrs. Paud's army?"

"Well... it may have slipped my mind to remind my visiting friend of this but... Mr. Paud wasn't exactly in the right.. place? At that time?" Heron seemed hesitant with his excuse, as seen with his long neck mostly peeking out of the waters, Purroit had noted.

"What do you meeean he wasn't in the right place??!" demanded Mrs. Paud.

"He means that I unwittingly caught your husband with another Mrs. Paud that wasn't yourself, madame." Another head surfaced from the pond, its long neck barely peeking through. "I got curious on how tasty he'd be.. being caught in the act, so I'd like to extend my apologies on your.. loss."

A moment of deafening silence soon followed, before Mrs. Paud was the one to break it herself, "That! Lying, cheating!! Slimy SNAAAAAAKE!!!" were violent croaks that permeated the afternoon air.

"Goodness." Noir's silent exclamation was lost to the cacophony of sounds as he and Purroit watched this foreign bird elegantly sweep out of the water before it proceeded to shake the droplets off its ebony feathers.

"Gracious." Noir stared in awe at its magnificent size, its wingspan twice or more than his alone.

"He's an African Darter, I find him quite exquisite myself." Heron cheekily quipped from the water's edge, to which Purroit was the one to let out a huff this time.

"Well, I guess this is considered a case closed, my friend." he said, as he began sauntering back home, "Which also means it's time for an early dinner for me. Mhhmmm those frog legs are starting to sound tasty."

"For once Purroit, can you stop being barbaric??" Noir cawed, never getting quite used to the feline's quirks, to which the latter only replied, "What? I heard they taste like chicken."

A.N : inspired by the three photos. Hope you'll enjoy this short story.
!ALIVE