Tag: owl

Take a Breath

Glad you could join us for the next restful episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning to the beginning, and reading really fast…

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Photo credit: Geoff Gallice

Beneath the churning web, agony’s wail rode the final unbreaking wave as it crossed the field to leave behind the silent, still shallows of death. The enemy Flyers who dared to attack its surface learned too late that the struggle to destroy it only drew the attacker further under. Those who witnessed it from above soon retreated toward The Arids.

Vernon and Ambassador Arturo waited at the web’s edge where an escaping whisper of breath hinted at the Wildlands ants’ approach. Commandant Marabunta was the first to emerge.

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Above and Below

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Image credit: mirmiran-architecture / fogdenphotos / S.T. Ranscht

The gluey silken lattices fell like a curling wave, spreading across the battlefield as the Alliance Flyers approached the Hive. Enemy land troops ran, but the smothering webs overtook them and trapped them where they stood. Arids Flyers, circling low after the retreat sounded, tangled in the ropey strands and fell, unable to escape. Webs continued to rain across the clearing, blunting the impotent struggles of the doomed, advancing toward the Hive.

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Captain Avery

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Photo credit: Birch Leaf Photography

Scaling the tree next door to the Captain’s, Drago Galadeen called, “Captain Avery, sir!”

A snoring scimitar beak snapped shut, a pair of gleaming citron orbs snapped open, and the feathery face surrounding them swiveled two hundred and seventy degrees, searching for the call’s source.

“Who is it? What happened? Did they attack?” the owl asked, now as alert as if he’d known Drago was coming. “What are you doing over there, Galadeen?”

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Fleet of Foot, Swift of Wing

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Photo credit: Alan Vernon

“I’ll dispatch two nocturnal corps tonight, one land and one aero squadron,” Queen Lilian promised.

“Aero squadron?” Elliot wondered.

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That Sinking Feeling

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Photo credit: Joe Burbank/Orlando Sentinel

“Take a deep breath and hold on!” Barry shouted to his passengers.

They burst through the front line of the fire into a clearing on the edge of the river. Elliot shot a last look over his shoulder. Yvonne was gaining on them. We’re goners, he thought, closing his eyes against their imminent violent end.

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Hot Pursuit

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Photo credit: suzi044

Elliot pitched the sweat-soaked lump of fluff at Yvonne’s head as Cassandra launched herself onto Barry’s back. Elliot vaulted up behind her and stuck himself to her shell as Barry plunged from branch to branch, closer and closer to the flaming hell below.

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Barry

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Photo credit: Lars Van De Goor

“Hey, I’m Barry. Good ta make yer acquaintance. When I heard youse callin’, I was on my way ta da Floor — it’s gonna be a hot time down dere tonight. Looks like youse are stuck in a nesty situation.” He paused as though he were waiting for some kind of appreciative response.

The flames below flared as they struck the tree next door. Ash and glowing cinders swirled around them.

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Storm Coming

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Photo credit: dailygalaxy.com

Yvonne swiveled her head over her shoulder to face a rising breeze as thickening gray blotted out the lunar glow. She sniffed the air and turned back to her rapt audience.

“It was on a night like this,” she murmured in a sing-song tone,  more to herself than to them. “The wind-gathered clouds glowered in the moonlight till they devoured the lonely moon, and the only light came from lightning on the horizon.”

She blinked once at Elliot and Cassandra. “A storm is coming. You’ll have to stay the night.”

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Zen There Was One

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Photo credit: dreamworlds.ru

The moon had climbed only a branch or two higher in the tree when Yvonne returned with dinner to find Elliot cleaning dried blood from a slash on his girlfriend’s neck.

Looking away, she patiently reminded herself that her own savory kill still dripped from her talons, and she lay a beakful of mold-garnished leafy greens and a spongy-plump mushroom at their feet. Then, because that suffocating need to show well had woken from its long sleep, she couldn’t stop herself from discreetly tossing tufts of fur and shards of bone down to the charred forest floor.

Resentment simmered in her veins.

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Yvonne

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Photo credit: wallpaperup.com

The skeletons in the bird’s memories weren’t as easy to dispose of as those that littered her life, but she shook them to the dark bottom of her mind with a noisy, full body feather ruffling.

“I beg your pardon. Where are my manners?” she asked with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Welcome. I’m Yvonne. And you are—?”

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