Mama duck led her seven ducklings. "Quack quack quack quack," she recited to them, and they recited back, "peep peep peep peep," as they all waddled along in a row along the edge of the water. She led them through the reeds, and they followed. She led them into the water, and they paddled behind.
But some of the ducklings weren't entirely paying attention. They wandered thisaway, thataway. "Quack!" commanded the mother. The ducklings hustled back, but a few minutes later, the fifth duckling was meandering again, heading further out into the water.
A dark blur skimmed the water, leaving a splash where the fifth duckling had been. "Quack!!!" said Mama, hustling them all to the reeds along the water's edge. An eagle was pumping its wings, carrying the fifth duckling in its claws, gaining altitude again. The ducklings peeped at each other, looking at the receding eagle and each other.
There were only six ducklings now. This is the way of ducks: they have too many ducklings, and usually a few follow their mama's advice well enough to make it to adulthood.
Mama led them to an open pebbly bank and sat. The ducklings huddled about her. After awhile, though, the duckling started squabbling and chasing each other, the third duckling started poking about in the nearby trees. The second went to the riverbank, turning up its tail and poking in the river bottom with its beak.
"Quack!!!" said Mama, hustling back into the water. The ducklings all followed her into the water, the third dragging a stick in its bill. They looked back, and Mama was right, a bobcat appeared from where it had been hidden in a bush. It paced back and forth looking at the little ducklings. But they were safe now, out on the water.
This is the way of ducks. They can go on land, on water, they can even fly. They can evade nearly any predator easily if they know they are there. If there is no food, they can easily fly elsewhere. Life for a duck is easy. Although, Mama couldn't fly away for now except at the risk of leaving her ducklings unprotected.
But there are predators everywhere, waiting, just waiting for them to meander.
Another eagle was circling in the sky. Mama guided them by the river's edge, near the reeds.
But the third duckling wandered. No, it didn't exactly wander ... it was slowly heading straight out into the middle of the water. "Quack!!" commanded Mama. The third paid no heed, and kept paddling further out. "Quack Quack Quack!!!"
Sure enough, here comes the eagle. The third duckling ducked beneath the water half a second before the eagle arrived, but the eagle's sharp talons dipped deep down in the water at the bottom of its hundred-mile-per-hour swoop. The eagle rose from the splash, but wasn't behaving quite right. It flapped, but aimlessly, and fell like a thrown rag doll back in the river a hundred feet away. It kept flapping, heavily, splashing the water. There was a stick embedded in it. Its feathers were tinged red.
The third duckling bobbed back to the surface. "Quack!" commanded Mama. The third duckling looked over at Mama, considered, then started paddling over to investigate the eagle.
The second duckling looked back and forth, between Mama, the eagle, and the receding third duckling. "Quack!" commanded Mama. I, the second duckling, looked back and forth again, then started paddling out to follow the third.
This was first posted on reddit.com r/WritingPrompts.