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Fjord was oblivious to Will 'O Wisp's worry. In his mind, he had done right, although Dodger would not be able to partake in listening to the ancient tale. At least she would not spread her illness here, not now at least. He shuddered to think those large white patches taking over his own being or that of any other fledglings in the enclave. It was unfortunate, but life was unfortunate in many of it's dealings. He continued with his story unwavering, as he had repeated it and heard it many times throughout his life.

"Fatewynd was up early, just as the sun was setting behind the drying trees of Noctua and he left word only to his mate, Athorn. The direction in which he flew was unknown to all, as none witnessed his leaving of the great forest. He flew many nights and rested during the days, and none know just how far he traveled.

After his many, many nights of flight and little to eat, he came upon a stunning, yet worrisome sight. A great clearing was before him and it seemed to stretch on for ages. In the center of this massive clearing was the largest tree Fatewynd had ever seen and its branches seemed to claw past the clouds and into the stars. There were no leaves to this formidable tree and it was surrounded by calm, fluffed clouds and a heat that the sentinel had never known. He had little doubt as to whose territory he had found, for it was the one who he had been searching for. He gulped loudly and turned his eyes to the right, to the left, below, and above. There seemed to be no danger, although one could never be too sure in such a situation. Once the sentinel gathered enough courage, he shot forward into the vast openness of the clearing. There was a single tree, other than the massive one in the center, and it was much smaller and served for poor shelter. It took our hero many dangerous moments to reach said smaller tree and its bare limbs offered him little protection from the elements and from predators that might happen along. Fatewynd had never before felt so small or exposed.

“O’mighty Thunderbird!” His voice rang clear and loud through the clearing and his feathers fluffed nervously. “O’mighty Thunderbird, please hear my voice! ‘Tis Fatewynd, of the Forest of Noctua! Why has our forest been forsaken?”

His golden eyes focused on the seemingly calm tree and he wanted more than anything to flee the scene and head for his territory, yet he held his position. A stab of dread filled him as the winds began to blow and the calm clouds seemed to swirl with anger. A long and sharp mighty beak sliced through those angry clouds and sounded with a deafening shriek. Fatewynd could see no more of the Thunderbird, nor did he long to.

“Oh, silly Fatewynd! You and your kind know! Forsaken! HA! It is I who has been forsaken! I and Noctus himself! You foolish sentinels mock us and laugh, but you forget whose blessing lets you live as you do! You also forget whose winds and rains provide you with the life you need to live as you do!”

At each powerful and deafening word, Fatewynd shrank before the Thunderbird and shame boiled within his depths.

“We have come to realize our wrongs! Our young are dying and we are starving! Please, O’mighty Thunderbird! Have mercy on us! We know the errors of our ways and wish to redeem ourselves!”

“Redemption? You ask for much, little Fatewynd! Hnn? Well, perhaps there are a few tasks you could complete! A few tasks to prove what my winds and rains are worth to you and your fallen clan!”

Fatewynd sat quietly and his brow was furrowed. The lives of the clan were at stake and here he was before the almighty Thunderbird. “Anything asked, O’Mighty one!”

"Remember my words and remember then well," Fjord's voice called out powerfully, "for they shall not be repeated, sentinel! To the sought, in the warmth, and four night's travel from this clearing is a river! Follow said river east until the willows embrace the ground and a den eats the water. Said den holds a stone of blood and fire. Fetch the stone. This is your first task of three. Be swift of wing, for the sake of your clan depends on my appeasement."

Before Fatewynd could respond, the beak withdrew into the swirl of clouds and a blinding flash of bright stunned the wildtype. The clearing was gone as if it had never been and he was surrounded by a thick copse of spruces.

Now Fatewynd felt for a moment like he might have imagined the entire ordeal. Perhaps he had hallucinated his meeting with the Thunderbird, yet he decided to follow the instructions that he had been given.

The travel south went slowly, as Fatewynd needed to rest. If he rushed forward into the unknown, he might not be prepared to face what challenge may be ahead of him. He was already aching from his long search for the Thunderbird, which had spanned so many nights that he had lost count.

On the fourth night of Fatewynd's journey, his surroundings appeared greatly familiar. He had seen this territory before. It belonged to none other than the notorious Banethorn.

Now Banethorn was not a creature to be taken lightly. The fox had visited Noctua on many occasions and each time he brought with him misfortune. Banethorn was a known thief and all that hit the forest floor was his, including any unfortunate companions, hatchlings, and fledglings...

Fjord was a good storyteller and Fatewynd stories had always been favourites among fledglings (and adults). A shadow fledgling was so eager to hear what Fatewynd's plan was that he leaned forward until it looked as if he would fall from his perch. Two younger fledglings were huddled up close, grateful to have a friend close if the fox should do something scary. The crowd was watching every move Fjord made, eager to hear more.

The crowd erupted into a low murmur when Fatewynd threw himself to the ground to save Small Ear, and some of the smallest fledgnings couldn't help but let frightened peeps slip out as it looked like the Mus might be eaten. The two who were huddling together crept even closer, without breaking eye contact with the bard.

"Don't eat him!" a Wildtype male shouted, but was promptly hushed by an older fledgling.

"Eat him!" a smirking female shouted from one of the higher perches.

The story's climax provoked more peeping and hooting from the fledglings in the audience. The more easily frightened ones were relieved that Fatewynd had saved the Mus and the Bloodstone.

"Yay!" a Mist male hooted, "Go Fatewynd!"

Even the smug female in the back seemed pleased with the development of the story. Taking the tail from a fox, imagine that!

"You wouldn't really be able to do that," she whispered to the fledgling closest to her. "It's just a tale."

"Nuh-huh!" the Wildtype next to her answered. "Fatewynd is real! He can do things like that. And my father could. He's brave like Fatewynd."

"Psssh... Sure he is," the female whispered, but she was silenced by the spontaneous cheering when the Thunderbird confirmed that Fatewynd had completed the first task. Would the second one be just as hard and as scary to complete?

The female did not join the cheering, but the story was starting to get a bit too interesting to waste by arguing with stupid chicks who believed that their father was better than Fatewynd.

The talk about the open and predators scared most of the fledglings into a complete silence.

But as Fatewynd reached his destination some fledglings started to whisper about the one who could possibly live in a big nest like that. So close to the above... Who wanted to live in the very top of a tree when there were better branches further down?

"I... I... I live in a nest." a newly fledged chick peeped, a bit too loudly, and was promptly shushed by the fledglings next to him.