Deverit was trying to find new ways of jumping between his two favorite branches without getting sap stuck on his tail hairs, when his friend Bill flew by.
“Hey Deverit.” said the cormorant.
“Hey Bill.” said Deverit.
“Still trying to figure out how the jump between branches without getting sap stuck to your fur?” said Bill shifting his weight on the branch slightly.
“Pretty much.” Deverit replied. “too bad I can’t just fly like you.”
“Eh, more trouble than its worth sometimes,” said Bill, “but speaking of flying, I just came from Afganistan. The local squirrels there love some kind of nut called a pistachio. You know me I’m all about the fish”
“But I packed one deep in my craw so you could give it a try.” The cormorant wretched his long neck and regurgitated what looked like a small light-brown mussel.
“It’s small” said Deverit without much enthusiasm.
“Yeah,” said Bill, “But they’re supposed to taste really good.”
“Alright, thanks then. I’ll give it a try.”
“No problem,” said Bill and flew off toward the ocean, presumably to find some breakfast.
Usually pistachios are conveniently separated, allowing a squirrel like Deverit to easily pry the small nut open. However this particular pistachio, most likely one the Afgani squirrels had no patience for, had adamantly sealed itself shut. Deverit tried to crack the nut with his teeth, but it was still far too slippery from being inside a cormorant for several days.”
“Ech,” Deverit exclaimed at the fishy and slightly acidic taste.
He tried a few times unsuccessfully, before finally deciding that this could not possibly be a nut. “It must be a rock,” Deverit theorized. He threw the nut over his shoulder and forgot about it since the sap that had stuck itself to his tail during his failed attempts preoccupied his mind.
Two years later, despite the difficulties of flora from Afganistan growing in a place that was not Afganistan, a tree that had grown from the nut had produced more nuts.
“What good is a tree that grows rocks?” Deverit thought.