Today is the day. I preen my feathers. Today. Mother begins grooming me. I flutter away. She has a bit of mirth at my embarrassment. Father flies in. He has meat. Knows I will need my fill. It's taxing work, they told me. To fly. Especially the first time. Hatchlings try too hard. Try too hard, waste too much movement. Not practiced enough.
So meat. The lower leg of a flat foot bipedal. Father crows about how they caught them unawares. That he was able to claim this piece for my special day. I relish it. But of course my messiness only invites fussiness from my mother. It delays me. I think she knows I am eager to be off. She has slowed her cleaning to make this agonizing.
Finally they carry me off. Their talons grasped me from under my shoulders. Gently. They take me to a clearing near our nest. Mother fusses over me some more. I shoo her off making room for myself. She flies off to a tree top. Father is with her. They look down on me. Ready for me to join them.
I check my wings. Not a feather out of place. Alright. I can do this. I push off the ground, my wings fluttering. Father screeches out to slow the pace, more fuller flutters. I do as he says. Try to do. It's hard but every time I get better. Every time it's more of a flutter and not a jump. I understand, like this. I am hovering. My mother coos. I push off more. It is time to join them. It's awkward at first. But I got to their height. Now to glide to them. I angle myself as I was told. Wooo too much. Flap flap. Better.
Mother has started to panic. I'm fine, mother. I start to angle myself again. To glide. Something sticky hits my talon. What? I quickly look. A blood red string of web is attached to my talons. I am being pulled to the ground. I flap harder. My eyes follow the web to its source. A giant spider with a bipedal rider…where are the rider’s legs. Another yank. I am falling.
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My baby. The creature killed my baby. I wail. My shriek is one of pain and anger. We will slay this brazen thing. All of us.
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I push out my confines. My tooth chips away at my confinement. It opens and there is light. Mother and father greet me with song.
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I fly down dodging the thread that hideous thing shoots out. It is chirping at my son's death. I will take its eyes. It raises its right middle arm. Fire!?!?
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My mate and son. Nooooo. I harried the thing from behind. It twisted around as if it was a serpent. It makes no sense. I backed off. Consider my approach. I screech as well. This thing is here for us. We must kill it.
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I hear the wails from the clearing. Tragedy. It happens from time to time. A fledgling exhausts themselves at too high a height. They land badly. The mother generally ends their suffering. A smell of burnt feathers and cooked flesh wafts in. Another screech hits my ears. This is no tragedy. An attack. I lift off. Others do too. We must defend the nests. I grasp a spear in my talons.
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In and out. The monster is fast but stuck to the ground. I am wary of its arms. It must die and yet the wounds I make heal. Damn it. Die. I have its head in my claws. My blood freezes. I fall. The thing continues to chirp as its leg pierces my chest. Sorry, my love and so…
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
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Mother fed me first. I preen to my sister. I was first, I cackled. She ignores me.
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Noooo, an entire nest dead? They only managed one. Damn this thing. It is fussing with its barrel. Even as it chirps its melody of death. I dive. It did not realize it woke the flock. I will skewer it with the bipedal's weapon. It plunges through the things back. I place a talon on its shoulder, gripping to pierce its flesh even as I pull my spear out of it. I thrust again. Upwards this time. Where the breathing part should be. There is a scraping sound but it punctures. I go to pull it out again but the thing has grabbed the other end. A hand is put in front of my face. It burns.
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More screeches. We must fight as one. This thing has taken too many today. We must kill it. The flock descends as it pulls the spear out of itself. Its middle arms are disabled. Our chief son writhes on the ground cover in some greenish liquid.
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It was a good hunt. The caravan was resting. They hadn't noticed our approach. My brother and I were first to attack. He went for the taller one. I choose the smaller, more tender one. We must be quick. The meat spoils fast. Our flock caught many. Their wails sound our retreat.
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It continues to chirp. Damn this thing. I grab an arm. My sister, another. We pull. It struggles but we have the leverage. There is a crackle. Everything becomes bright.
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The flock has brought in a many good meats. I worry though. We have been too aggressive. My son prizes his silver spear thinking it makes him formidable. He lost his mate to a bipedal wielding it. He mourns her loss but practices with the thing that took her. He aims to replace me. I have had to disabuse him of the notion too many times of late. He is brash and young. That he is half my size matters not. Youth. He will need a few more summers before I step down.
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I am grounded. My body burns. Brother is dead beside me. I look up. There is smoke coming from the creature's horns. It chirps even as it holds its eyes in pain. I drag myself away. Knowing its futile. This thing will kill me. Or my flock will, for being broken. But I still drag myself. My desire to live. I look back. I see the spear flying towards me.
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My warriors are slain. I should have been the first to fight, not the last. I swoop in, bowling the creature over. It still can not see well after it used its blinding attack. Rather foolish. Perhaps it is still young and unsure of its abilities. A terrifying thought. I pulled the spear from my granddaughter. She would have brought a new mate to us. Now that is over.
I skewer the thing. Pinned it to the ground. I form my ice spears. More skewers. This thing does not die. Does not bleed. Dismemberment it will have to be. It struggles even as it continues to laugh. This thing should be dying but it laughs at my efforts. Its madness is trying to worm itself into me. I form more ice spears. It must be fully pinned down before I can begin ripping its limbs off.
A bit of rock glances off my head. So this thing has even more powers. A beam shoots out its chest and into the ground. It cackles at its misfires. It is clearly insane. It turns its torso. A hole is burnt in the middle of its chest. I pull to the side as my wing burns. It catches fire. I roll to smother it. More ice pierces the thing. It finally stops moving.
Then the laughter begins again. Its body is broken. I approach. You have caused great pain today, creature. I will feast on your organs. As will the young still here. It will be tough going. Being alone. But the flock will rebuild. I will see it—
It has my throat. You struggle yet? I reach up to the offending arm. My talons are ready to tear the thing out of its socket. I begin to feel cold. I pull. It is on the ground. It wails as it laughs. Does this thing not breathe?
Its form shifts. A grounded bipedal? It is missing the arm I took. But it is too close and worse it is free. It jumps onto me and bites down as I feel that coldness flood into me. What will happen to the young? My grandchildren. I try to push it away. But I grow weak while this thing continues to feast.
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Father has screeched a lot. There was a lot of screeching from others too. I look at my clutchmates scared. I was the first out. I will stand tall for them. I heard chirping. A small insect flies above our heads. It points downward. It makes strange noises. A delight reaches the edge of the nest. The wiggly things are always the best to snap off from the longer thing. I always ate that part first. I rush over to see that it is still attached to a creature. Its torso and head are similar to ours. No feathers to preen. It is missing a wing. But its eye glows red and it is chirping.
