The little bird died by the time I came home from work. When I saw it hopping around the box this morning, I thought got some hope. But one thing though, we tried to force feed it but it did not eat...

There were wounds on its neck and its wing was clearly broken when we rescued it. Not a very good prognosis for a little bird like this.

It was a saddening state to see it lying on its back in the box all stiff. Its head was hidden among some paper towels we put in meant as added warmth, as if it did it on purpose as it didn't want us to see it like this. I mean, to watch the face of a dead animal is painful. Or maybe it just felt safer to die in the warmth of something around its face, like a comfort zone.

I stood there at the box and just stared at the corpse for a while. Perhaps it's just the end of its misery and pain.