|
"Hell hath no fury..." (Somewhere between Greenhill and Muse) Feather had to admit it now. He was totally and completely lost. He didn't even know if he was in Jowston, Toran, or Highland! He'd flown far enough to be almost anywhere in this part of the continent, and he was getting sick of being lost. Feather settled in a plain and rested his wings in the sun for a few moments. As he lay there with his wings outstretched on the ground, he recalled Connell. That boy had helped him out enormously...where had he gotten to, anyway? Feather chuckled to himself. He should see if he couldn't find Connell sometime. It would be interesting to look for him, at the very least. Feather heard a slight rustling in the long green grasses nearby, and his head whipped about to orient on the sound. After a moment, he managed to make out a small pack of tigers stalking his way. Surely, they couldn't be serious... Sensing that their cover had been blown, the tigers all leapt to attack the prone griffon. Feather managed just barely to get himself in the air, avoiding some very vicious lunges. Yup, they were serious alright. Feather sighed to himself. These animals probably couldn't outweigh him altogether, much less singly. The tigers were crouched on the ground, staring up at Feather hungrily as the big griffon hovered in the air, debating what to do. Finally Feather decided he didn't really want to kill another predator, so he chose a direction, and flew off. The setting sun should give him another few hours of light, at least. As he flew, Feather did some thinking, as he tended to do these days. Voice had been quiet for a good clawful of days now, and Feather was beginning to ask questions of himself regarding Voice. Let's see...might as well start with what I know of Voice. I know it is a being that resulted when the idea of balance gained so much beleif and power that it passed some limit and went from being simply an idea to some sort of entity. Because of that, it probably has to hold true to its original nature - balance. I don't know how its origins give it what powers it apparently has - to speak into certain minds, and even project images into those minds - but it does have them. I wonder what other powers that it has? And what's with this bizarre message that it wants me to deliver? I am grateful to it, though. It has taught me some things about what humans are really like. Some of them seem to have lost their self respect - and that's an injury I definitely would not like to receive. Letting yourself get stepped on by someone else simply because you think that you're worthless? Horrible! I wonder what Badeaux is up to right now...I wonder what he even looks like! Feather chuckled to himself. All I really know about this man is that he's a human man, named Badeaux, and he is very much into nature. It'll be interesting when I find him! Feather spotted a small cluster of trees, and flew towards them. Time to rest and check the map. Feather knew he was lost, but held onto the beleif that if he just worked with the map enough, he could figure out where he was. The trees provided a great deal of cool shade, and there was a soft layer of leaves and grass on the ground, which Feather gratefully lay down upon. He opened up the small neck bag that he had taken from the bandit camp he'd trashed, and drew out the map. The map was a little crumpled, so Feather smoothed it out gently. He examined it anew, trying to match the map with what he'd seen as he traveled. He lay there, examining the map, for quite a while, before he finally noticed something strange about the map. Feather blinked, and started cursing himself for an idiot. It wasn't a map to Matilda at all!! It was a city map of GREENHILL, and there was an arrow pointing away that read 'Matilda'!!! Feather very sternly tried to control himself. He exerted every ounce of will and determination to keep from exploding in anger. He struggled valiantly with the fury that roared in the furnace of his mind. He also failed completely to do anything of the sort. When Feather's vision finally stopped being red, he finally managed to see what he had done while in his rage. He turned his head this way, then that, and for a moment wondered where the trees had gone. Then he recognized what the large chunks of wood on the ground had once been. After some searching, Feather found part of the map. It looked like it had been bitten. After thinking about that for a moment, Feather realized that, yes, he now knew what a city map of Greenhill tasted like. He hoped it wouldn't mess up his stomach. Feather sighed and relaxed on the ground to catch his breath. This was really turning out to not be his day. First those idiot tigers, then the map...and now he didn't have any shade to relax in. How could his day get any worse? There was a rustle in the grasses nearby. Feather looked, and stared. No...it couldn't be. They couldn't have been so boneheadedly stupid as to...follow...him...yes they were. Feather saw the exact same group of tigers that had tried to fight him earlier. If Feather had been human, he would have probably gotten a headache from the stress. Since he wasn't, he simply pounced upon the idiot tigers. They deserve it, if they were this dumb. Feather caught them by surprise - who expected prey to ATTACK? - and managed to dismember one of the tigers before the other three recovered themselves. One down. A tiger leaped at Feather, claws outstretched. Feather met it with his own, longer, claws, and the beast died, impaled upon said griffin claws. Feather got mildly scratched and pierced by the tiger's death throes, but it was only some flesh wounds. Two gone. The wounds pained him, and Feather used that pain to fuel himself in the fight. The next tiger was running around to one side to try and flank him, so Feather used his wings to make a long hop to one side, over onto the foolish tiger. The beast was smarter than the others, and managed to draw further blood before the griffin's beak found its neck. Three down. The fourth tiger watched the carnage, and decided that they had picked the wrong animal to hunt. It tried to escape, but Feather sank his talons into its haunches, and pulled it back. He stood up on his two hind legs, raising the tiger into the air, and started to whirl around, faster and faster. Finally with a burst of effort, he hurled the tiger a goodly distance away where it disappeared into the grass. Feather knew it wouldn't come back, so he gave it no further thought. The fight had allowed Feather to vent his emotions, however, and he felt much better. He felt some of his wounds and winced, wishing he had some of those herbs he had shared with that human...the one who had helped him beat up that crazy other human. Feather went among the tiger carcasses and ate his fill, selecting choice portions from each corpse. His hunger satiated, he decided to stay here for the night. The ground was soft, and he should be able to have a tiger breakfast in the morning. As he drifted down into sleep, Feather could have sworn that he heard Voice faintly murmur in his head, You have much to learn, young one...much indeed...
| ||||
