Perhaps it was fate that killed the woman that night. Divine intervention blocking what had become the natural order. A bad flip of the coin or a rotten card hand. Except this time there was no rematch; just a simple game over. If only it had been a victimless crime.
A pair stood at the gates of a quaint, two story house, their bodies soaked to the bone by the sheets of endless grey rain pounding into them. They held hands. Or rather a hand held a limp red wing. The rain had sleeked the red feathers, making them stick together. The shorter of the pair shivered and finally curled its plumed wing around to grip the hand.
"Where's my human?" it asked in a soft voice.
The taller, obviously human, form was silent before finally answering. "She's not here," he said sternly. "You'll have to go out and find her on your own. Come see us when you do." The wet hand stuck slightly to the feathers as it released the wing, stark red against fair skin almost looking like sticky blood. The tall figure left… And the shorter one took flight, small wings proving stronger than expected in the gale.
---
Clunk.
"Kyaaaaaaa…."
Clunk.
"Uwah…"
Clunk.
"Ughh-"
"If you don't stop whining I swear I'll bust yer beak."
"But-but, this log is heavy, Enrique-bird! I'm not cut out for physical labor. That's why I'm for a human! I'm a fighter!!"
The Gaomon's hackles curled back into a snarl, his gloved paws resting on the bark of a log. He glared golden eyes at his other companion, a Hawkmon, before pulling back his fist and punching him in the shoulder. The Hawkmon winced and an expression of stunned pain came to his face.
"Ow!" he squawked. "No reason to get violent, Enrique-bird!!" Sulkily, he rubbed his "injured" arm and leaned against the fallen tree trunk. The heated Gaomon merely snorted and turned around to lean his back against it too, folding his arms over his chest. He gave the Hawkmon a dirty look out of the corner of his eye.
Calling this guy a bird brain was an insult to other birds everywhere. He came by every year around the same time spouting about how he'd one day find his human and live the great and wonderful life of luxury. To make matters worse, he'd fight anyone who tried to tell him how terrible humans were and he generally would win by a fluke.
"Quit yer bitchin'," the Gaomon, or Enrique, grumbled.
'This guy… he's such a headache…'
He huffed and pushed off the log, looking about the arena critically. 'One would think the grounds keeper would keep it a bit clearer so there wasn't as much work to be done closer to the contest.' The red glove came up to rub at his muzzle tiredly.
The Infinity Gear competition was a slaughter more than anything; he didn't know why so many Digimon signed up for it willingly and then spent several months preparing for it. Looking through his paw, he eyed the vagabond that often stuck around it seemed just to help with tournament preps and even, once or twice, helped others train for it.
'The shit head would never actually enter it; he couldn't stand fighting against his precious humans.'
"Oi," Enrique grunted, "get off your lazy tail feathers and help me."
"But-but…"
"No but's!!!!"
---
It was late into the evening when the Hawkmon finally picked up his tattered duffel bag and headed for his campsite. A smile was on his fleshy beak as he took flight awkwardly, fluttering around to watch, for a moment, the retreating back of Enrique.
As the hawk Digimon fluttered off with amidst the beat of his wings, his boomerang-like headband strapped to his head, the creature awoke. An eyelid fluttered open, revealing startling green eyes that were shrouded perfectly by the greenery of the clearing. Completely hidden within the foliage, the digital being crept closer to the Hawkmon. Closer and closer it inched, legs scraping painfully against the pebble-laced ground, but since it was out of survival, it was forced to do this.
With a mighty rustle, the creature stood up from the bush, literally throwing its leaves off it as a pair of green eyes (from before) locked unto the hawk.
"Baby Flame!"
A burst of red fire screamed forth from the reptilian's muzzle. Rows of teeth glinted under the sunset and whatever sunlight was offered to them. Determination racing through its veins, the Agumon growled as it advanced towards the Hawkmon. It was now or never – never did it get a chance to capture an already worn-out target. Scraped legs slowly edged towards the maroon-feathered Digimon.
The fireball continued to hurtle towards the unsuspecting Hawkmon but would never hit its target. Demonstrating a speed that wasn't expected, the bird Digimon quickly tilted sideways and fluttered backwards, bringing his feet to plant firmly on the ground. The blazing fireball soared just short of his head, leaving him sweating slightly under his feathers.
A grin, or as much of one he could make, came to his beak. "You're messing with the wrong bird, bird!" he squawked. His wing reached up to grab the boomerang plume in his headband. With a quick flick of his arm, he sent the projectile whizzing towards the attacking Agumon, his own sky blue eyes dancing with glee and mirth.
"No one picks a fight with Vice and wins, bird!" he said airily.
The Agumon stumbled backwards, but soon regained its composure as it summoned orange flames. Deftly, it compressed them into a small ball of pulsing flames, the sides of it licking the sides of his muzzle, but it wasn't in the least hurt by its own flames. As the saying goes – fire was definitely one good servant.
Its eyes blazing together with its mouth, the creature released the compressed ball of flame. It hurtled straight towards the Hawkmon, its speed unrivalled: such was the sheer speed (at the cost of power) of the technique Spitfire.
The Hawkmon could only widen his eyes as the fireball hurtled through its intended trajectory.
---
Otter: Wheeee... Me and Tapir seem to be everywhere, ne? Anyway... we started this Digimon fan-fiction mostly because we work together on a Digimon RP; it makes sense for us to work together on a fan-fiction. A quick note though, the Hawkmon's Digimon Line? Yeah, it's not a plausible one. We're fibbin' things a bit...
Tapir: Digimon's been one project I've wanted to do for some time, but didn't have the means to pull it off – but with Otter's help, I daresay it'll not be too impossible. R&R, all of you!
