Effete (adjective): worn out; barren

Stepping over dusty pebbles and crunching through dried leaves, the little webbed feet padded clumsily after the two figures. They were getting further by the second— a pair of humans pushing their stroller and enjoying the remaining rays of the setting sun.

The baby goose strained its neck, the half-grown feathers on its small wings flapping about in a desperate effort to propel itself forward. Even though it tripped over itself for every step it took, it ran after them. It ran for warmth, for love, for the wishful image of a family that cared for the youngling sleeping in their stroller; a family that would defend him and stand by his side if others bullied him or shunned him.

Beneath the layers of soft gray fluff, its heart knew that the two figures were human— they were not geese and they were not his real parents. They would never help chew up the worms that were too big for it to eat and they would never chase off the other ducks that snapped at its neck in their crystal-blue pond.

It couldn’t keep up.

Footsteps slowing, its small body shivered at the first signs of nighttime wind.