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Location: Forest of Nod, IF Date: 03 Aug* (Backdated) Weather: Clear, warm Time: Midday |
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(Prompt) Young birds are preparing to take their first flights. Many of these birds do not survive these, and the shock of the fall can kill them or leave them vulnerable to predators. Either observe a successful flight or find a downed bird--while not particularly good eating, feathers are extremely useful for other projects. Note: The prompt says "eagles" but I can only find three extremely rare eagles in NS, so I changed it to "birds." Will update on the prompts themselves. XD
Ithiel is by me!
It was the scream that drew Ithiel first. The cry was almost like the cry of a pained Luperci, although too shrill and too loud. He had been guiding Lystra around the borders when it drew his attention. Stiff in his saddle, he'd directed the horse toward the cry, moving her as slowly and quietly as he could stand. His ears pricked as another cry echoed through the quiet afternoon. The heat had given many creatures over to sloth and shelter, and Ithiel himself was regrettably hot. This never stood in the way of duty, however.
Zedekiah, too, seemed happy enough in the summer warmth -- the bird circled high above in the sky, Ithiel knew, a black dot against the overcast sky. It had stormed the last two afternoons, and the western horizon seemed darker than the rest. Perhaps another was due for this afternoon. Rain or unbearable heat, Ithiel must do his duty. As he drew near the woods, a floundering sound caused him to pull his horse to a stop. Lystra snorted her annoyance and impatience and glowered at the earth. There, a hawk hopped about on the ground. One wing was twisted at a cruel angle. The bird squealed its fury at Ithiel, and Lystra began pawing at the ground.
The hybrid steadied her with a few pats on the neck and shoulder and a murmured word, though he dismounted to inspect the bird. Lystra took a few steps back and settled, apparently calmed once out of the reach of the talons and beak of the avian. Ithiel bent down to the earth near the bird. It drew back against the trunk of a tree and began a series of whistles, almost like squealing. Its eyes were more intimidating than any Luperci's gaze, but Ithiel reached out and grabbed it by the neck all the same.
Drawing the flailing bird up as he stood, Ithiel reached with his other hands for the bird's legs, and -- after receiving a brurtal scratch to the arm -- eventually caught both of them. It was a small bird -- gray-brown in coloration, with a pale chest. As Ithiel stretched it out, the wing closest to him hung limp and useless while the other beat furiously and uselessly at the air.
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