High in a pōhutukawa tree, Koro and Kiri, two kererū cousins, fluffed their feathers. A very ripe plum, purple and plump, sat on a branch just above them.

"I'll take it first!" said Koro, and he swooped down the valley. "Wait for me!" cried Kiri, who was smaller but quick.

Koro flew over a busy farm road, but a big red tractor rumbled past. "Phew!" he huffed, swerving just in time.

Kiri took a shortcut through a grove of silver ferns. The plum in Koro's beak looked wobblier and wobblier. "I'm coming!" she cooed.

Just near the big old waka, the plum fell from Koro's beak! Boing, it bounced on a mossy rock. Kiri zipped down and caught it. "I have it!"

Together they landed on a sunny marae where Nan and Grandad waited. "You both win," smiled Nan. The plum was shared — sweet and juicy!