Welcome to Gaia! ::

Outside, the wind howls-- it seems to throw itself in ever-increasing gusts against the trees, as the Thunderbird beats his wings harder and harder. But over the sound of the latest roar, a deep and reverberating hoot can be heard-- barely. It repeats at steady intervals, and it seems to be getting louder even over the storm outside.

It's Hawthorn, and he's calling for Dodger.

Oh, but she knows that sound! Thrilled to hear that familiar call, Dodger hooted as loudly as her lungs could muster, filling the classroom with her joy. She drops the plank abruptly and rushes towards the entrance, completely ignoring the fact that she is quickly soaked to the bone by the wind-driven rain, and calls out for her teacher.

Finally, someone with sense! Finally, someone to help her get the shelter up and protecting the little hollow. Finally, someone to talk to who isn't going to snark at her just for existing and having ideas. If she didn't have her sharp talons firmly embedded in the wooden floor to keep herself from being swept away by the storm, Dodger would be bouncing excitedly.

Apparently, Dodger's hoots can be heard outside in the storm-- or perhaps Hawthorn is just following a particularly good hunch. In any case, a darker patch of the night sky is suddenly visible, and resolves into a shape. A flying shape. A flying shape that's moving dangerously quickly towards the hollow. And at the sight of Dodger in the entranceway, the flying shape cries out. "Get back!" And whether she listens or not, Hawthorn does not have time to check his approach. The wind has given him one shot at this, and at the speed he's going he can just barely manoeuver. It's the classroom, or the tangled branches beyond-- and an impact into branches at this speed is not an option.

And so the male Shadow hits the ledge and pitches into the hollow, managing a surprisingly graceful braking flare that may very well bowl all the fledglings over and probably soak them too, but at least it manages to keep Hawthorn from crushing anyone or slamming into the back of the classroom. The sodden, wind-blown male looks more bedraggled than Dodger has ever seen him, but the spark in his eye when he shakes himself off and glances quickly around the hollow will be familiar. His gaze travels over his charge, Osprey, and Bumblebee, and the Teacher pauses a moment to catch his breath.

"Everyone okay?"

As soon as Dodger's straining eyes are able to pick out the darker shadow amidst the sleeting rain she unhooks herself from the floor and skitters to the side, clearing room for the adult to land. No hesitation, no lingering near the door to peer out worriedly just in case he missed - she saw that he was coming, and she made room. One thing that the aberrant has learned in her time with Hawthorn is that he does what he says he'll do, and his calls in the stormy night had made it very clear what he'd intended.

"All good!" She chirps, her bright voice showing just how happy she is in those two simple words, even if she's trying so so very hard to be somewhat reserved. But he's okay, her teacher is safe and he came looking for her and he found her and she finds that despite her attempts at acting like an adult her beak is beginning to gape in a silly grin. Sparing a glance for the other two fledglings, she advances with barely-managed nonchalance and gestures to each one in turn. "Ossie, an' Bumblebee."

If the shadow were to look closely at his charge he'd notice that she's moving with far less casual grace than usual, as each step is carefully planted before she takes the next. Her bright blue eyes are a little off as well, but aside from that she seems fine. Very wet from standing in the doorway, but fine!

"Excellent," the Teacher says, allowing himself a little huff of relief. He nods at the self-reports of the fledglings, and although he does give Dodger a direct stare, as long as her eyes aren't pointing in two different directions he has more immediate things to worry about. The wind outside blows a nasty sheet of icy water inside the classroom, and Hawthorn swivels to survey the situation.

"Let's get this place a little quieter, shall we?" He smiles at the fledges and winks at Dodger, then uses his Will to heft the plank that the youngsters-- unbeknownst to him-- had been trying to use to cover the opening. He wedges it securely in place, and while it doesn't fit perfectly, the noise in the hollow does abruptly lessen, and the wind stops blustering inside.

Still, the classroom is dark, and wet, and cold. Hawthorn fluffs his feathers and makes his way carefully to a spot against the wall, then settles himself with his wings slightly spread. "Alright-- everyone who wants to be warm, come and huddle! We can wait out the storm, and you can all tell me what adventures you had until I came and ruined it all." The shadow male chuckles. "My name is Hawthorn, and I won't bite." One wing is spread out towards Dodger, but there's plenty of room for Osprey and Bumblebee on the other side, should they choose to accept the male's offer.

Dodger's eyes are both pointed in the right direction, but a keen and discerning gaze would notice that one pupil is dilated a wee bit more than the other. Her movements are a bit too deliberate to be entirely normal, but aside from that the aberrant looks fine.

And she tries, oh, she tries so so very hard, but the patchy fledgling can't help but smirk a little when her teacher does precisely what she'd been trying to get the others to help her with. Her time with Hawthorn has taught her a few things - whining overmuch isn't a good thing, nor is gloating - so she bites back the words she was desperate to say at first. It would be really nice to claim credit for the idea of blocking the entrance, and she would love to lord that over the younger fledglings, but instead she fluffs up and shakes herself off before moving to the Shadow's side. To her side, since he's saved an entire wing just for her, so there's no need for her to be territorial. After all, Hawthorn himself suggested that they huddle close. That must be the best course of action!

"M'glad you're okay," she mumbles quietly, after she's snuggled in close to her teacher and dared to begin preening at his side to help dry him off. She's a bit damp, but not nearly as soaked through as the adult! Besides, this is a perfect excuse to be just as familiar and affectionate as she wishes she could be all the time.

"I'm glad you're okay, too." Dodger will find herself at the receiving end of a surprisingly intent preening from her teacher, who is not usually so demonstrative-- and it seems to extend to the other chicks, too, because when the younger fledges finally cuddle up, he gives them a reassuring little wing-snug. This uncharacteristically 'gentle' Hawthorn only lasts a few moments, though; the teacher is still catching his breath, and he's so relieved to see his charge in one piece that he can't help himself. It isn't long at all before he straightens up, however, and though he fluffs his body feathers to dry off while at the same time providing warmth for the little ones. He's back to business again in no time flat, clucking away the thanks of the younger two with a smile. "Don't worry about thanking me, mm? Just get yourselves warm, and we'll sit out this storm. I'm sorry I don't have any food for you just yet, but we'll see what we can do later."

He glances between the three. "Why don't you all tell me what you've been up to? Any adventures?" They aren't badly injured, they aren't screaming for their minders, and they aren't keening in blind fear. It could definitely be worse!