The Secret Life of Ducks

"One week left!" quacked Captain Drake through his shiny whistle. Before the ducks could leave on their big trip, they needed one final practice run around the pond. Barnaby tightened his red scarf and checked his goggles. The flock took off, but they didn't fly south just yet. Instead, they practiced their special moves—diving, swooping, and gliding in perfect circles. "Keep your wings steady!" Beatrice called out as she soared next to Barnaby. They weren't just practicing flying; they were practicing their secret job. As they flew through the misty morning fog, they moved their wings like they were holding invisible paintbrushes. Swish, swish, stroke! Barnaby got a little too excited and tried a triple-spin. "Watch out!" he shouted, tumbling gently into a pile of soft autumn leaves. He popped his head out and grinned. "I meant to do that!" With practice finished, it was time to pack. The ducks waddled back to the riverbank where their leather trunks were waiting. This wasn't ordinary packing; they had very special cargo to organize. Beatrice packed her finest brushes with the polka-dot handles. Barnaby carefully placed jars of 'Cloud White' and 'Sunshine Gold' paint inside his case, wrapping them in soft moss so they wouldn't break. The sun began to set, turning the sky a deep purple. Barnaby clicked his suitcase shut and looked up. "Everything is packed," he whispered. "Next week, we fly for real."