The hand returned, patting around for the remaining chicks. The chicks shifted back and forth, trying to avoid it, with the two behind Crash beginning to dig at the interior wall of nest. There was another way out, but Crash was turned away from them. The hand landed on him and gripped him awkwardly. Crash bit at the hand, but it was covered in a thick rubber glove.
Crash twisted around in the hand, the tip of his beak catching in a weak fold of the glove. Feeling it give, he bit down as hard as he could and ripped the glove down to the skin. The owner of the hand almost dropped Crash, but quickly recovered, wrapping his other hand securely around the squealing dice. There was a flash of blinding pain, the right wing was crushed at an awkward angle as the other hand closed tightly over his tiny body.