A/N: Preface
This story, as told in the POV of a bird, obviously cannot have an explanation as to what is going on in 1306 (the year this story takes place) in regards to the history of Quidditch. So for those who may not know, here is a quick explanation. The game used to be really basic, just a few players and one ball, but developed gradually to be more like the game we know of today. Then one day someone brought a Golden Snidget bird to the match and it broke loose. The owner offered a reward of 150 galleons to the player who caught it first, and thus the role of the Hunter (or Seeker as we know it today) was created, and Golden Snidget birds cruelly used in the game where today there would be the magical snitch ball. The stress of being chased by people on broomsticks and the process of being caught generally resulted in the death of the Snidget, which led to the Snidget population diminishing drastically. Eventually the species was deemed endangered and therefore protected, by a witch named Elfrida Clagg, but before that happened, there were very few Snidgets left in the world. (For a better, more accurate history, Google 'Golden Snidgets', there are several sites there that touch on the matter) And it is at this point that the story starts, where from one of the last families of Snidgets living in the UK, a little He-Snidget is helping his She-Snidget build a nest for their future chicks, deep in the forest...
Flight of the Snidget Chapter 1 – The Whispering Forest
I flutter my wings and chirrup joyfully, the leaves in the branches above casting a cool, mottled pattern over my back. #Shall we fly on, my pretty little one?# I ask my beautiful she-Snidget, who perches beside me in the ancient tree, bright ruby eyes shining with happiness. She is clutching a beak-full of fluffy strands and hopping from foot to foot, eager to be back at the nest.
#You go if you wish!# she whistles with a wink. #I shall get back to the nest for a rest and at best, you can bring me something nice for my tea!#
I rub my head to her breast affectionately, tweet at her to take care, explain at her fussing that I'll be back soon. The homely forest rustles, whispering its song as she speeds off, twisting and zipping lightly through the tangle of trees. I watch her fuzzy gold blur until she is out of sight, then spread my buzzing wings and zip off the tree branch in the opposite direction, heading for the thinner edge of the wood where it is lighter and more spacious for collecting food. The earth is still moist from the recent rain; I feel sure of finding a juicy worm or washed up fairy eggs for my love, who I enjoy spoiling with rich food gifts!
Flying is so much fun! The trees are a mush of green and brown as I accelerate towards the bottom of their trunks, turning a loop the loop in a squiggle with a giggle, though there is nothing blocking my path. A rabbit darts out of the vegetation below, nosey nose quivering in the breeze. Out of the corner of my eye I see a familiar sparkle of gold and catch the last of a friendly greeting in the rush of air, #...merrileeee!# But there is no time to stop; we are hasty, busy birds, and since the loss of many of our kind in mysterious disappearances, keep on the move if we can!
The trees are thinning in front of me, the giant egg in the sky spilling its yolky fingers in great puddles across the juicy green undergrowth. I slow to a buzzing hover, eyes sharp and bright, searching in between the roots for a movement, a stirring, a murmur – or perhaps the swirly glow of abandoned candy, waiting to be collected by an inquisitive bird like me! I see no candy, but something catches my eye, wiggling amongst the soil. In the space of a second I dive to the ground, clasp the squirming worm in my beak, and zip to the nearest vantage point, chirruping excitedly through my mouthful, well aware that had my she-Snidget been with me, I would have received a chuckling of #Don't sing with a wormful my sweet, lest someone else steal your meat!#
Thinking of how much she would enjoy the nourishing worm, I place it safely on the wide branch beside me and zip off to catch something for my own tea, spotting a group of lazy flies hovering above the mushrooms that are scattered invitingly among the grass.
My eyes gleam cheekily.
Bounce, bounce, thump, spring! I hop across the spongy round tops, beak open wide to swipe up the crunchy mites, eyes sparkling with joy, heart racing. I swallow blissfully, fluttering to a halt on a stone to catch my breath. Ah the pleasures of life!
A butterfly twirls past, royal red and blue powdered wings shimmering in the light. I take off from the stone on an impulse, join the pretty insect in flight, chase it teasingly along the edge of the forest, twirling and flurrying amongst tangled brambles until it flitters off over the open field. #Thanks for the fun, tiny colourful one!# I call in farewell, hovering on the spot with a quiver, aware that I have come too far, let myself be lost in the moment. I must be getting back to my love; collect her tasty treat, and snuggle up in the nest for the night, where I can keep her safe from harm. The world is darkening even as I linger, a cloud covering the radiant face of the sun. A pair of magpies take flight from the trees behind me, calling out in warning. I feel a chill down my spine, and shuffle my wings warily.
Black shapes loom on the horizon. Without another moment's hesitation I zoom off back to the branch where I left my worm. The thrill and exhilaration of flying feels replaced by a sense of unease and claustrophobia in the gathering gloom, despite the freedom I possess on the wing. I hurry along, zipping faster and keeping to the trees for safety until I reach my storage branch. There I land with a sense of urgency, re-claiming the stunned worm in one precise peck. There is the sound of whooshing from somewhere nearby, an alien, harsh whooshing, not like that of the wind's playful or angry breath. I take to the air with increasing alarm, aware of my conspicuous golden body of feathers against the scarce dark branches of the outer forest. The image of my beautiful she-Snidget swims to mind, she will be waiting back at our newly made nest, hungry and expectant. I must get back to her at all costs... whatever this strange and newly frightened feeling may result in. Snatches of foreign cries drift to my ears as I fly on faster than I've ever flown before. The world is a mass of confusion around me; I can hardly see where I am going. I must place my trust in the forest, whose trees whisper encouragement, urging me on:
Fly little Snidget, fly! Keep fluttering; we'll keep you safe.
#I'm flying, I'm flying# I reply, too breathless to rhyme, resulting to repetitive peeps. A flash of blue streaks past my beating wings, missing my feathers by leafs. The smell of singeing follows my path. I chance a look back over my shoulder and wish I hadn't, zooming on in fright. Following behind me are huge, black, billowing creatures with pale faces expressed in concentration. They ride upon dead branches, eyes glinting as they twist and turn between the trees, ignoring the beating, scratching arms with a determination that seems unwavering. But my determination is far superior. I will not leave my she-Snidget to live her life alone, bringing up our chicks without my help... yet I will not take danger to her either.
I change direction, heading for the deepest most thickest part of the forest I know, darting sharply towards the bushes ahead. There is a high pitched cry, the rush of something behind me. #Hold on, my she-Snidget, I'll be back...# I see Mr Eagle come flying to my rescue from his high home, call to him that I'll be back, to tell my she-Snidget that I'll return. A flash of white light blinds my vision for a brief moment, something light but cumbersome falls over my body. I feel my wings strapped down to my side, feel myself plummet to the ground... and then darkness engulfs all.