Hijil liked pretty birds, and kinfa certainly were that. But there were other beautiful birds of the Tale and, out hunting, she happened to have the good fortune to find them.
Moreso: They were beautiful blue scorra, like the sky just before night, a piercing shade that seemed to glow along with the incandescent fungus of the trees. Their feathers speckled with white and black, like stars in the sky, and it glared around it fiercely before returning to its foraging. It was, indeed, a gem of a bird. It was also, very nearly, all of her favorite colors at once.
Very fortunate indeed.
The bird was far from home, obviously. Or, alternately, it was one of the scorra breeds that lived in the jungle. Jungle scorra were rare, and Hijil wasn't sure how to tell the difference with certainty. It could, she knew, also be a pet, or a descendent of someones pet. She also couldn't tell that with any certainty (though the lack of ornaments was certainly pointing in the direction of a wild animal.) She had checked, and no one else was around. So why not capture one to show her children? Or, if it didn't survive, why not cook one up? Their meat was tasty, and it had such nice feathers – they could use it in crafts. She rather thought that Bhima might like having feathers to work with.
The scorra was in a small group – again, making it unlikely that it belonged to anyone but the wilds of Jauhar – and it was nibbling on illo that failed to escape its sharp beak. Occasionally, the group would caw and croak, unpleasant sounds that Hijil thought might be communication. She watched them for some time, until she finally decided to stalk one that split from the group. They didn't bother to look up – flightless ground birds, Hijil guessed, not used to having to look up at all. Their concern was for the paths immediately ahead or behind, and whatever lurked around them – things they could see, that shared the ground with them. Not for stalkers in the canopy, like herself, which she was.
Do kinfa eat scorra? she wondered suddenly, puzzled. If so, then wouldn't a scorra look up? It didn't matter. She was creeping up behind it silently, and that was what mattered. She realized, all of a sudden, that it was actually travelling towards one of her snares... what luck! If she flushed it that way, she might be able to trap it with ease.
She dropped a ripe fruit into a bush, hoping to make noise and startle it forward... but at the sound of the rustle, the bird's tiny head shot up and looked around belligerently. And then, with a piercingly unpleasant cry, it ran off in a completely different direction, crashing through the underbrush without any grace or style.
Hijil struggled to keep up in the trees, leaping from branch to branch as fast as she could.
A miscalculation and some slippery fungus, and her hands slipped on the branch. She scrambled for a handhold, heavily aware of gravity acting on her body, the distance to the ground, and the predators that lurked in the depths of the jungle. She managed to climb back on the branch, holding onto it like a feline until she felt calm and secure.
She frowned in disappointment: she had lost her prey.
Oh well... she thought sadly, glad to be alive. She'd have to find something else to gather, though.
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