Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games
Speaking Earthcrawler
"You have mockingjays?" I ask. "Oh, yes. I have a few that are my special friends. We can sing back and forth for hours." - The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, pg 255 – 256 (UK version)
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As suddenly as she appeared, the two-legged earthcrawler chick has gone. He doesn't like it. The two-legged earthcrawlers always come by and they, like he, are fond of their young. But the earthcrawler who is basically Bird has disappeared. Why have these elder ones permitted it?
It is strange, to like an earthcrawler, but he cannot help it. She gives him and his brood gifts of food and sings with them for long times. She does not come too close to his nest and on the few times he has permitted her to hold him, she has been very careful. And so he misses her.
In his moments of wondering where his earthcrawler has gone, he wishes he could understand what her kind say when they speak. He doesn't usually care because their words have no impact on his life. But he's sure if he knew what they say – if he could understand them – he would know about the chick. He would know where the bird-who-is-not-Bird has flown to, with her gifts of food and voice.
It has been just over one Dark-glow Cycle since he last saw the earthcrawler. In his head, he knows she will never return – she has flown away for good or may even be in the Deep Sleep in which one of his own chicks succumbed to just three Cycles before. But in his heart, he hopes she will come back, to sing with him and his brood once more.
For the past few Light Skies, he has not seen the earthcrawlers taking their food. But today, as he flies through the trees, as the Light Sky changes to Dark Sky, he sees them again. He soars to the highest tree. Maybe the bird-who-is-not-Bird has returned and wishes to sing her tune again, for him to pass on to his kind. Maybe these two-legged ones hunt only when she is there.
For a moment, he thinks he sees her and lands on a branch. Then he realises his mistake. It is not her. It is an earthcrawler from her nest, one who roams the ground with her occasionally.
The earthcrawler turns awkwardly and sees him. He hops backwards but she raises her clawless paws and sings a short melody. One his earthcrawler liked. Cautiously, he sings it back.
"I'm sorry I'm here," she says. "She's not coming back."
He blinks, confused. She doesn't use the same voice as his chick. But she is trying to communicate with him.
What is she saying, he wonders.
"Rue can't come back. She … she died. Three weeks ago."
He keeps looking at her. She sounds as his chick did, on the occasions when she did not seem content. But what is she saying?
"I miss her so much," she whispers.
This earthcrawler is younger than his chick. She looks very unhappy. Does she long for her nest-friend, as he does?
Suddenly, he knows. If she is here and his chick is not, then the bird-who-is-not-Bird is gone for ever.
Is she in the Deep Sleep?
He cheeps sadly. It is the sound he made when his chick fell into the Sleep. He makes it now for the earthcrawler – the bird-who-is-not-Bird – who will sing no more.
The new earthcrawler is looking away from him.
"The flag!" She turns back. "Can you do what you did for Rue?"
He stares blankly at her.
She sings the tune his earthcrawler sang as the Light Sky faded in Cycles gone past. He sings it back. Behind him, more of his birds sing. The two-legged earthcrawlers stop their hunt. Just like before.
But it is not the same.
"I can't do it like her," she whispers. "But thank you."
She uses her paws to descend. Not as well as his earthcrawler. Never as well.
He stays where he is for a little while longer, watching this new earthcrawler walk. She talked a lot to him. But he doesn't know what she said and he knows he never will.
After all, it is impossible to understand the earthcrawlers.