|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Mon Jul 14, 2008 4:16 pm
 The Deep Woods seemed far darker tonight. Stray shafts of moonlight were exceptionally bright, broken only by the occasional flash of a tawny feathered body passing through. For the first time since they’d hatched, Amberglow had left her two boys at home by themselves. She couldn’t face them, not right now. She prayed that her companions would be enough to keep them secure until she could return.
Her thoughts were so despairing that she couldn’t concentrate at all, and when she reached her destination she made the worst landing of her life. The collision was painful, but there were no injuries worth caring about. It was pathetic, really, the way she struggled onto her feet afterward like an unpracticed fledge.
Now she stood on a platform, one that those same fledglings used for flight exercises. This was the property of a teacher, one she’d been considering for lessons for her offspring. She was an older Sentinel, but had a wonderful reputation. Amber wasn’t sure exactly why she’d come here. Maybe it was instinctive; going back to the days when she herself was taking lessons and was always asking her teacher for advice.
A miserable little hoot was about all she could make to announce her presence, hoping desperately that the resident teacher was not hard of hearing.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 19, 2008 6:52 am
Granny's hearing was still as good as ever, and she could tell her students apart from the noise they made. Not only their voices, but the way they flew, landed or preened. Some of them, like Twig, had mastered silent flight by now, while others still flew very noisily by Sentinel standards. Ah, they would fly like adults on their graduation day.
This landing, however, was unfamiliar. It did sound a bit like a fledgling, and the miserable hoot was weak enough to have originated from a fledgling. Therefore it surprised Granny a lot to see a grown Sentinel sit in the middle of the platform, looking absolutely miserable.
"Dear child," Granny said softly as she left the classroom hollow to investigate the new arrival, "What in the woods happened to you?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 19, 2008 8:48 am
Out came the teacher, and Amberglow instantly regretted coming. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the elder bird, it was merely the fact that she felt infinitely more exposed in the presence of another Sentinel. But she stayed, for the thought of going home was much worse.
“I… I’m sorry to intrude, but… I don’t know what to do.” She kept her feathers sleek as she spoke, making her look as small as she felt. It wasn’t every day a messenger chirop brought you the worst news of your life.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 19, 2008 9:53 am
Granny wasn't sure what had happened to this poor girl, but it wasn't important right now.
"Oh, hush, you're not intruding," she said, "Come on dear, let's get into the classroom."
She made an attempt to usher the distraught female towards the closest hollow. Some fledglings felt safer in the darkness of a hollow, and at any rate her guest might feel less exposed in a more sheltered space.
"Don't worry dear child," she said with a motherly smile, "Now you tell Granny what happened."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jul 20, 2008 9:29 pm
Amber did feel better in the deeper darkness of Granny’s classroom. Not much, though. She hunkered down in the smallest space she could find and began her halting account.
“A messenger chirop… It came at dusk tonight. The news… was not good.” She’d been staring at the floor of the hollow in front of her talons while she spoke. She glanced at the teacher, then off to one side. “My fledglings… My boys… I don’t know what to tell them. They won’t understand. I don’t even understand.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 26, 2008 1:07 pm
Death in the family was Granny's first guess. She had dealt with death a lot over the years. Everything from finding the last traces of fellow gatherers or other Sentinels down there, to comforting grief struck fledglings.
"Everything comes to an end," Granny said softly, "It's in the nature of things. I think your boys will understand a lot more than you give them credit for. Fledglings might not have the experience of an adult, but their minds are surprisingly adaptable. Sometimes they take to change and bad news better than adults."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Aug 27, 2008 8:52 am
"You think they would understand that their father isn't ever coming back?" The words poured out of Amberglows's beak before she could control herself, then she went silent and would have bitten her tongue if she could. She'd come here for help, and snapping at the elder Sentinel wouldn't make things any better.
She didn't realize that Granny had assumed Mapleclaw was dead. It would have been easier, far easier, if he were. But no. He had abandoned his family.
"Granny, that message... He never even said why. How could he leave us like this?" She tucked her chin into the white fluff of her breast, shrinking again. "We already had to give up one egg," she whispered through the feathers, "even before he went on that hunting trip."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 12:57 pm
Linnéa listened and she really felt for the young mother. It couldn't be easy for her, and her worries about how her boys would take it might just be her own anxiety and grief focused on something else.
"You will not raise them alone," she said gravely, "It takes a Clan to raise a chick and we will take care of you."
The little old lady was completely gone from Granny's voice and body language. She spoke as the powerful female she once was, and at that moment she did speak for the whole Clan.
"They will learn to understand and live with their loss if you give them the chance," Granny said softly. "Death is not the end."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Sep 20, 2008 4:39 pm
Granny could have easily said the same in a far harsher manner. The old bird’s uplifting words, however, were more than enough to make Amber ashamed of herself. She had often been told as a youngling that the Clan worked together as a whole. She depended on the minders watch her brood when she had too much work to do. She’d been to the stores a few times when game was scarce. She’d seen and participated in many group efforts to rebuild what the Storm had taken. Everyone helped one another. It was beyond stupid for Amber to assume no one would help her now.
“I’m sorry,” she said, turning her eyes down. It wasn’t exactly the right response, but after an emotional explosion like that, she wasn’t very eloquent. She stood a little straighter, though. There was hope yet.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 07, 2008 9:17 am
Granny decided that a change of topic might be prudent. She had a great deal of experience in handling fledglings, of every type, shape and colour. She could probably find samples from all the main types among the moulted feathers scattered in the back of the classroom.
But during her seasons as a Teacher she had also been forced to learn how to deal with parents. And Granny knew that most new parents loved to talk about their chicks. It was worth a shot at any rate.
"Tell me about your boys," she said gently, "They must be beautiful fledglings."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
