The ocean, in its enormity, was a terrifying place. Which was saying something, because he's Elliot, youngest of the famed Nightray brood, and he wasn't afraid of anything. He wasn't afraid of injury, or loss or disgrace. He'd dealt with all of it, and he'd always come out the stronger. He'd been forced to deal with his three older brothers being eaten, and watched his mother fall apart at the seams, before disappearing and never coming back. He'd dealt with the passing of his father from a prolonged illness that had worn on the whole family, and only worsened after the passing of his brothers and the disappearance of his mother. He'd flown out in a storm when he shouldn't have, out of anger and spite, and injured himself. He'd fallen to his assumed death, only to survive until his sister found him. And Elliot had lived with the pride that came with the Nightray name, and all of the advantages it offered him; the highest nest in the canopy, the abundance of food, and the clout they held in the hierarchy of the avian, and he'd survived past falling, losing the ability to fly, and disgracing all of it. He'd seen other avian broods try to take their highly coveted nest, attempting to insert themselves into the vacuum that their family's numerous losses seemed to make in the hierarchy, and he'd learned to fight them off bare fisted and flightless. All the things that should have taught him fear and pain, had only served to harden him, to make him more rigid and less likely to fall apart at the seams. Certainly, it had made him angrier, and more volatile, which arguably was a positive outcome. He was more prone to yell and punch than a normal avian. They weren't typically violent creatures, but in Elliot's 16 years, he had learned the merits of aggression, and that with wings like his, it was the only way anyone would take him seriously.
But despite the numerous setbacks, and hardships in Elliot's life, the ocean terrified him. More so than the other avian looking down on him as an invalid, more than the cold that would set in only a few months away, and more than the loneliness that would come with migration.
His wings were useless now, their black feathers with white splotches were still relatively well groomed and cared for, but they no longer worked in any real capacity. He could still flap them and gain some height, but he was in truth, a flightless bird; he had no strength for the trip across the great expanse of water that was the ocean, and winter was coming. It had been a long year, with the fall happening in early spring, and his father dying not long after. His health had deteriorated more rapidly after they all thought Elliot was going to die. Indeed all of them had had a troubling year, but now, it would be Elliot's first winter on his own. A flightless bird is a dead one, as the saying goes, but Elliot Nightray had never simply laid down and died before, and he wasn't going to now. He'd fought too hard to just give up.
Avian were not made for the cold, but Elliot was positive that he was going to make it work. There'd be no possible way he'd last the trip across the ocean, so really this was his only option, and Elliot accepted it with considerably less scorn than he had anticipated. He distinctively remembered the void of water from previous migrations. Even then it had been terrifying. His body had ached from traveling endlessly, and the ocean had remained steadfastly unrelenting. Even in peak conditions, the ocean sucked away all energy in its vast expanses. With his wings as they were, he had no chance. Elliot had to stay behind and test his luck with the cold instead.
It was certainly possible that he didn't fear the cold, because it was something he's never had to witness before. Their summer home was green and lush and beautiful, with great expanses of trees, bright skies from above the canopy, surrounded by mountains covered in lush trees to the wet, and the steady beat of the coast to the east. It was an ideal summer home for an avian; not to hot, and not to cold. Their winter home was in the tropics, and predominantly stayed the same moderate temperature all year, but it hardly produced enough to sustain a large avian population all year round. Indeed, they were only permitted to go there simply due to their status, it was where all higher avian families spent their winters. Other lower broods spent their summers elsewhere, but they still left. Avians were not made for the cold, so none stayed.
The white expanses of winter was something Elliot had only ever read about in books. It was a thing he couldn't possibly fathom. White snow drifts as far as the eye could see almost seemed impossible to the young avian, who for the whole of his life had either been nestled snugly in the embrace of a forest, or over top of a great ocean in transit. Back then the ocean had only seemed like an obstacle, something he simply had to get around in his overall goal. But as he was, all Elliot could see when he thought of the ocean, was death. He knew it would kill him given the chance. The cold in context of books and stories, seemed kinder; at least with winter, Elliot felt he had possibility. The ocean would swallow him whole, and wouldn't even leave bones to be mourned. Like his mother, he'd simply vanish, never to be seen again. His sister, Vanessa, would simply turn to look back, and he'd be gone.
Winter really was his only choice in the matter, though calling it a choice in his own head almost seemed humorous. He would have to be more careful than normal, his dark wings would make him an easy target for hungry wolves in the area. Avian had no predators within the canopy, but on the ground, they were certainly on a few menus. He'd have to be smart, clever, and cautious; all the things he'd been historically horrid at. Planning and caution had never been his strong suits in the past, so the whole venture was going to have to be a huge learning experience if Elliot was to survive. He was going to have to work hard to overcome his instincts if he was going to make it, but as with everything, Elliot was sure his chances were at least decent, if not outright good. It was worth the try. He'd even proved to himself that he could adapt by learning how to knit, and had made himself warmer clothes in preparation, and Vanessa had made him a lovely pair of boots. Avian didn't typically wear shoes, but they'd both realize that he would need them, and Vanessa had labored trying to figure out how to make a pair for him. In the end, they'd turned out to be nice boots, though in all honesty, neither of them really knew what a good set of boots really looked like, though Elliot did suspect that his were perhaps a little too large.
He and Vanessa had also worked hard to make any repairs that the nest needed for winter ahead of time. It was customary to leave their nest a dumb when they left for migration, and to work vigorously upon their return to get it back into a livable condition. Since he was staying the winter instead, he needed the nest in tip top shape, so he and his sister had worked to keep it that way.
Knowing that his decision to stay was likely inevitable, Vanessa had also prepared stores of food for him. Typically, an avian would provide for himself, gathering nuts, berries and fruit for his own consumption, but with Elliot flightless, that arrangement had gone by the wayside. To his amazement, Vanessa and his adopted brother, Gilbert, had taken up the cause, collecting food for Elliot, and themselves. And while they had needed to bulk up for migration, both of them had still been squirreling away food for him. It was enough to make him angry, if he really thought about it, but also undeniably ashamed of what he could, and could not do.
Winter won't be perfect. He was going to lose a lot of weight, even more than when he'd fallen and had to recover, but just as he had then, he'd regain the bulk and strength eventually. He was also going to have to make his food stores last as long as he possibly could, and once it was gone, he was going to have to go looking for food on his own, a very dangerous prospect considering the black, useless wings on his back. But Elliot thought, with confidence, that if anyone could do it, it would be him. Even if the berries and the plants were all dead, there would still be fish to eat, and when the nearby lake froze over -if it froze over- he'd instead travel to the ocean. The coast wasn't far by the wing; walking would take longer, but certainly it couldn't be that much of a chore. Walking was much slower than flying, but Elliot liked to think that despite that, he tended to make good time. With his wings wrecked as they were, he wouldn't be able to hunt for fish like he normally would, but he also had some idea on how humans used rods of some sort to fish, and if human's could manage it, certainly Elliot could.
The cold won't be easy, but it would be better than the ocean. And as the inevitable date approached, Elliot found that he wasn't actually very apprehensive about having to stay behind. In truth, it was simply another test he would have to pass, and if he lived past it, he'd have to do it again every year after. But Elliot Nightray no weakling, he could manage.
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I am biting the bullet, and posting this. I will attempt to update daily. Thank you to my lovely beta, PoisnousPixie, for putting up with my poor grammar, and worse moods.