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As fast as she could, Fig grabbed Pika and hurdled to the opposite side of the nest. She wanted to get as far away from the creature as possible. The other female didn't need to tell her twice. Looking towards the other two fledglings, Fig could tell that they were obviously just as scared as she was. Even the boy was showing signs of fear. The situation was getting worse and Fig was now visibly shaking. "C-come o-o-over here!" she studdered trying to call the other fledglings.

But before she could say anymore there was another loud sound. This time, Fig was actually comforted by the sound. Apparently, something had hit the creature and caused it to fall down. The female's golden eyes could no longer see the black figure. "I think it fell!" she shouted out in excitement. But this excitement was only temporary. For, after only a moment the figure reappeared right behind the male. Whatever the creature was, it sure was determined.

Mulberry was still so intent on hiding that when the other female sang out in relief, Mulberry immediately hissed at her and pressed herself further into the little cranny in the wall, tighter against the other fledgling. That was probably the first time she really hated being right. The sound returned, and Mulberry's heart sank like a pinioned parus.

So terrified that she couldn't even tremble anymore, the little Wildtype's big, yellow eyes stared up in utter horror as the humongous shadow slowly crept up over the little boy's head, looming over him. She didn't want to watch, she didn't want to see, but she couldn't look away.

No... no, her mind pleaded. Don't eat him. Don't eat us. Go away. You can't see us. We're not here. He's not there.

But not so much as a breath escaped her throat.

Fiachra twitched at the noise- there was something more... and now it was in the nest?!? Head tilting at the strange pile of feathers and water he puffed out his chest curiously, his nerves still on end.

Outside, the storm raged on, and as a few droplets of stray rain hit his nose he gasped from the frigid feel of them sliding down his feathers. He was standing too close to the storm, but to move would mean standing closer to that... thing.

Terrified eyes rose to meet those of the other female pressed against the wall, then traveled downward reluctantly to the silent shape looking broken and pathetic on the floor of their hollow. Shuffling backwards, Fiachra held his breath, he would have to be careful, or horrid things would happen to him. He knew that much.

But it was a relief that whatever it was wasn't tearing them apart with razor sharp talons.

Yet.

If Fletcher had been at all aware of just how much heart-rending terror she'd put the fledglings through she probably wouldn't do what she does when brave Mulberry reached out with her talon and her words. Unfortunately, Fletcher is completely unaware and more than a little addled. So when she is touched she bursts into motion, leaping to her feet, spreading her wings, and fluffing her drenched feathers. A sudden push with her Will gently nudges Mulberry away from her while it seems to shove fiercely at the water, spraying the nest with a strange Will-borne deluge.

When all is said and done, the russet-feathered Aberrant is left in the centre, completely dry, standing calmly and gazing about herself with pale green-gold eyes. She seems to be somehow both relieved and disappointed to see herself surrounded by Wildtype fledglings. Belatedly, she answers. "Me? Fine fine, I'm just fine. You? All okay? Where are your.. your Minders and Teachers? Gone, gone away?"

Mulberry had pretended to be prepared in case the unknown sentinel would make any sudden movements, but when it actually does explode into action she finds out just how wrong she is. Her legs do what they were prepared to, and jump backwards, but unfortunately not both at the same time, so she ends up in an awkward sprawl only inches further back from her original position. Her beak opens to let out a scream of terror, but since she is inhaling sharply at the same time, all that comes out is a really weird squeak.

But when it is over, and the strange sentinel stands up straight and speaks like a normal grownup, Mulberry just stares up at her for a little while, as if dazed, before the realisation that she's not actually going to get eaten actually sinks in.

And that's when all the accumulated stress and fear finally takes its toll on the little fledgling. She is so incredibly relieved that the waking nightmare is over, and there's actually a grownup there with them, and at the same time incredibly angry for having been startled, and frightened, and, and...

The little female's entire plumage flattens, she hunches over - without even getting up first, which is something of an accomplishment - and begins to keen breathlessly, as if she was really, really sad.

"You're not supposed to do that," she wheezes, merely shaping her keening into words. "You're not supposed to... do that!"

Fig couldn't believe her eyes. She had thought they were all about to get eaten or something. But it was just an adult. Just an adult that had scared her out of her wits! The fledgling wished she had found a better way to make her entrance. That way, Fig wouldn't have been scared for her life. Either way she was not mad, just relieved. Relieved that she wasn't about to die and relieved that there was now an adult in the nest. Now, in case anything bad really came, they would be alright.

Glancing around, Fig looked at the other two fledglings. They seemed relieved as well. Fig came out from the corner of then nest slowly. Her legs were shaking from the events of the storms.

Being gently prodded and spoken softly to, Mulberry quickly pulled herself together. She wasn't a hatchling anymore, and besides, the worst of her ire was already blown over. She took a few deep breaths and fixed the strange grownup with two grumpy, yellow eyes.

"'M not broken," she explained, grudgingly patient. "I was scared." She pulled herself up, still keeping a close eye on the adult. "We've been all alone here since the storm started, and there were scary noises..." She preened very briefly, then looked over at the little male, since he didn't answer the adult's questions.

"I don't know if he can talk," she informed the russet female. "I'm Mulberry. I think the Minders forgot us. Who are you?"