Albatross had begun his journey outside the forest. He was aware of the highway and where it was from the tome and the whole debacle he regrets everyday with that one town. Over the horizon of the morning, he can see it. A dead highway for the most besides the occasional trucker traveling their cargo. Maybe he can hitchhike a ride, surely nobody would see anything wrong with picking a mushroom up. Maybe a certain demographic, but he fear the chance of them driving a semi instead of spending time on their couch with a pile of chips and cheese was a dream.

The rough road wore on his stubs after a good romp of an hour, it was wearing him down. The world was so big to him, it was annoying and he hardly gained any ground. He knew this was going to be a fruitless endeavor if this kept up. He stirred his body around to see if a car would pass by, nothing, nothing again, all it was, was semi-truck, bug, or bird. Which set off an alarm the second he saw one coming closer to say hi.

Too close to say hi, he swoops down at Albatross grazing his mushroom head.

“Hey! You dumb bird get away from my head!” He springs down the highway seeing the bird is preparing for a second onslaught. This dastardly colorful pigeon-like atrocity is attempting to eat him. His tiny stumps beat the ground sounding like a cat running down a long apartment stairway, purely helpless he does his best to step forward underneath some railing, his current saving grace. Though it does little to sway the bird away as he circles around it to peck at him.

“Away! Away! Gah!” he swats at it with his hands though the size difference is providing to be his downfall. The bird was playing him like a flute, tuning him one way and to the next like the press of each key. He was squealing in kind, letting his conscious float from ‘What the hell have I gotten myself into?’ too “Damn that Aika for getting me into this!” He didn’t pin all the blame on her. She did try to save the forest and the animals around, even if her magic is a clumsy as an ox with one horn and two tails, it was noble.

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Noble is a strong word, Albatross was being noble by seeking her out and here was this bird trying to make him todays lunch snack. Swimming through the railing one side, next side, the bird kept going like he was a lineman for an American football team, keeping on him with every weave. There was one hope coming from behind, a car, a regular car with a beat up blown gasket appearance. The bumper of which stuck lower to the ground, a ticket, he took it as soon as it closed in. Running to the side, the bird in pursuit, he nibbled his hands at the bumper and caught it.

His body flung and swivels in the air, the bird still kept up pecking at his belly with a strong pinching beak. “You darn thing! Take this!” he pokes it in its eyes making the bird squeak and back off returning it’s fluttering wings.

“Nasty vermin!” He shouts in glee using his second hand to yank his body onto the bumper. The car speeding in a haste the bird couldn’t catch, he was in the clear. His body filled with that of electricity, the kind of surviving and knowing he was on his way to the goal in a more efficient manner.

The tired mushroom caught his breath, letting it come ragged and rummaging. He always found the concept of breathing odd, before he was alive, he wouldn’t breath or walk, or talk, he was just a mushroom spreading spores and catching sunlight. That didn’t change, the spores, he had sprayed some with the moving of the car that clung to nearby leaf blades in yellow dots. The difference was it would make mushrooms, but the spores held magic in them. There may very well be a village of little Albatross people living somewhere nearby with how often he sheds spores. He never checked in fear of one of them calling him daddy. Repulsive word.

Away from childcare, life was looking up for the little mushroom. Leaning back on the car license plate he could rest easy, seeing the bag he brought with him also was safe. He takes the tome out keeping it small and compact for him to read without it bumping away from his grip. With how own travel he got. Half a mile.

“What the devil!?” he shouts frustrated but relieved to see that will change with this transportation.