He looked at the paltry prize in his claws. Five out of twenty was a poor show. Now it was time to either suck it up and go ahead and deliver what letters he had or spend the rest of the day trying to find the rest of them in the mud and cobbles of Spurbay. He sighed, picking up his fallen delivery pouch in his beak. He shook it, hearing a satisfying jingle. ‘At least the pocket didn’t come loose.’ He tucked it under his wing safely. “Horseapples.” He swore under his breath as he walked through the town, looking at the first letter and taking a left at Hoofington Avenue to make his first delivery.