A New Hunt-Death and Rebirth
Luna Silvereyes
A/N: Well, it's been a while and honestly I have no idea what brought this on. I haven't written anything in over a year and I was beginning to think my creative well had dried up and moved on to something else. As a full time seamstress and costume designer, my time is a bit cramped these days. It would figure then that The Predator of all things would rekindle my creative fuel. Yes, this is a weird crossover, yes, I'm still new to the fanfiction game for the AvP franchise, yes, my writing may be a little rusty, but I'll do my best and have no regrets. In order to combat and best the infamous and tenacious enemy known as writer's block, especially given my track record, I'll be updating roughly once a month. So, shall we begin the hunt?
((This is translated Yautja speak)) They will just speak within normal quotations when they're the only ones in the scene.
ARC I
Across the sun-baked plateau, blackbirds and buzzards gathered over the broiled remains of some poor beast, sprawled out on the parched desert Earth, its skin already leathery and tough as the moisture left its body. Its vacant eyes, long since plucked out by some lucky avian, stared emptily into the hazy horizon. Any troubles, if it had any, had long since become dusty memories, soon to be followed by its Earthly flesh.
And strangely enough, despite the number of birds circling overhead, not a single one of them dared approach. They were waiting patiently, perched atop the baking Earth and roasting rock as they eyed the approach of a much larger, stronger avian. It touched down, massive dark wings beating the dust around it as they tucked behind the back of the creature. The swishing, feathered tail slashed once as the creature stood up, gaining its Earthly balance, before settling. The scaly, clawed feet gouged into the parched soil as it approached the carcass, eying it distastefully. Yet as its feathered audience watched, even this new scavenger would not approach to feed. It bared its teeth, tail slashing the air angrily as it turned away, eyes narrowed; "Tainted. Another animal, tainted. I can't take this one back either."
Leaving the poisoned carcass behind to the few birds who wouldn't know better, the avian scavenger left, snarling under his breath as he made his way back the direction he'd come.
Recently, too many animal carcasses were turning up tainted, their scents turned sour, their meat inedible. The smell that replaced them was rancid, foul, and unnerving. This hadn't happened before, at least not in numbers this size. Combining this with the rapid movement of the humans recently in a southern direction had the avian highly suspicious...suspicious and worried.
He reached the edge of a deep ravine overlooking the expansive, ever-spreading desert stretching from the northern mountains to the edges of the sea far beyond. Somewhere to the east and west were immense forests sheltered by cooling sea mists, but the avian had personally never seen any of them. Too much time was spent just trying to survive on the fringes of territory that once belonged to his clan. Now, it belonged to the ever-encroaching humans, moving steadily forward further into their territory every year. And with their numbers already dwindling, the avian feared for his clan's now very unstable future. His strong legs pushed him forward as he sailed over the edge of the precipice, his wings opening behind him and catching the wind which tore him out of his plummet and far into the sky, angled toward the place he called home. He beat his wings sparingly, saving precious energy that he rarely received the opportunity to replenish. Food was becoming more scarce. He'd gotten lucky and managed to bring down a large deer of some kind, butchering what meat he could carry before other predators came to claim his prize. Too light to fight them off effectively, he would have been forced to abandon whatever was left.
Soaring through the narrow canyons, out of sight of any human hunters, the avian's sharp eyes picked up familiar landmarks; a fallen tree here, a stack of pointed rocks there, a clear brook to his right, and so on. Following these landmarks and the enticing scent of home, he beat his wings once to gain momentum, clearing the edge of the ravine as he reached a secluded, enormous granite cavern, hidden from the rest of the world by a sparse growth of pine trees far above on the clifftop.
The final home of the winged Avian race.
He landed delicately, folding his wings behind him and carrying the small bag of food further in, his long brown tail swishing behind him. Unlike many other creatures with tails, the avian's tail connected at the base of the skull as an extension to the spine like a normal tail, but with much more flexibility. Still providing balance, still providing defense, the tail was covered in spiny feathers which folded down from the tip of the tail to the top of his head, now resembling stiff, dark brown hair atop his head. His clawed feet moved easily and silently in the granite cavern, noticed by a few other avians who raised their heads briefly at his appearance, but then quickly returned to either sleep or to a state of blissful reverie of better times long past.
Striding forward, he paused at an upraising of rocks where a female avian sat beside a smaller female, gently grooming the soft, fluffy black down that covered her entire head. The older female looked up, her sandy brown feathers flowing down from her head to her middle back almost like a mane, before ending abruptly, the feathered tail of the same color twisting thoughtfully through and beneath the mane of feathers as she looked up at his approach. She sighed, "So, another fruitless trek?"
"Not really," he answered, tossing the bag down, "I found some food, but most of the carrion I found was rancid, or else picked clean. We can't eat it."
The female sighed, her feathers rustling as she continued to groom the down of the fledgeling beside her, leaning on her lap and staring ahead lethargically. The older avian shook her head, "She needs to eat, and soon, or she's not going to be okay."
The male bristled, his shorter head feathers ruffling up slightly, "Tell that to our elders," he snapped under his breath, "They've been denying her any food for days. This isn't her fault!"
The female rustled her feathers, creating a short, soothing rushing sound as she looked up at him, "Rail, just go try again. Eat what you need and I'll try giving her the rest."
The male calmed slightly at the sound, but whirled and stomped out, pausing only to return the growls of another avian whose space he invaded on the way to the entrance. Spreading his wings, he took off again, soaring high into the sky. The female watched her son go, lowering her head back to her young daughter who didn't move. She ran her hand through the silky, fluffy black down coating her head thickly and sighed again, her hand now moving to the tiny, immature wings on the girl's back. Solid black, but abnormally small. The older female didn't know what was wrong with her child's wings, only that they were far smaller than they should have been at her age. And for this, the clan was now denying the girl sustenance, as the elders believed she would never fly and thus, never be worthwhile to the clan. The older female resisted the urge to cry, knowing it was both futile and a waste of water in her already parched body. With her mate having been the most recent casualty of human invasion, her son, barely of age, was now forced to take on the role of hunter and scavenger. She wanted to cry not just for her stricken daughter, but for her son as well, being forced to grow up far before he was ready.
She heard footsteps behind her and turned as her sister approached, snapping her wings once in greeting before sitting down beside her. She glanced down at the child, her eyes narrowed, "So how is she doing, Shearwater?" she asked in a hushed whisper.
"Not good. She hasn't eaten in two days," Shearwater answered quietly, "The elders told us to stop feeding her. She's getting dangerously weak, Petrel."
"I've seen Rail out there hunting," Petrel said admirably, "He's not bad, at that. Of course, right now, there isn't much to hunt at all. I'm surprised he can find anything right now."
Shearwater raised her head, her sunken eyes crinkling in dismay, "He tries so hard. He wants to see her recover. But unless we get a miracle and her wings suddenly grow another foot by tomorrow, there's no chance."
Petrel didn't reply, instead eying her niece with a mixture of empathy and distaste. She would never say in front of her sister, but the elders had a point; taking care of an avian who would never fly was a waste of time and resources that were dwindling fast. The Avians were a proud race, and under normal circumstances, would never abandon one of their own. But circumstances hadn't been normal in many years. The child had never known anything but hardship and hunger. Times were harder on the winged people than they had ever been before. With every generation, they grew weaker and less resilient to the harsh realities of the world around them. Petrel had long since given up her fiery hatred of this fate the gods had seemingly ordained for their kind. She'd already reserved herself for death, refusing even to have more fledgelings of her own. Shearwater however, was a different story. She refused to leave the child out in the woods and let nature take its course, but she also refused to stop sharing her own rations with the girl. Even with a fledgeling of her own, Petrel had a hard time understanding this mindset, but she knew better than to argue with her sister.
But both females knew that the elders would eventually force their hands. The girl's fate was practically sealed already.
Petrel's young daughter Peregrine, roughly the same age as Shearwater's child, approached cautiously from the other side of the room when her mother began to take too long. She ruffled her small wings, her sandy colored down tied back out of her face with a piece of string. She peered over at her aunt and cousin curiously, "Mama, is Avocet sick?" she asked.
"No, dear, she's fine," Petrel said, forcing a smile, "Why don't you see if you can get her to walk with you?"
Peregrine beamed and hurried around to the other side, shaking her cousin awake. The other girl grumbled a bit in her sleep as she sat up, complying with her cousin's wishes as she grabbed her arm and dragged her to her feet. Avocet moaned weakly, "...Hey Peregrine..." she muttered, obliging to the boisterous girl's demands that she stand up and walk with her.
"Let's go outside!" Peregrine chimed excitedly.
"Be careful!" Petrel called after them. Shearwater started to protest, wanting to stop them from leaving. Instead, she stopped herself, falling silent and staring at the hard, dusty granite floor. Her wings sagged behind her, her dark brown feathers drooping and her long feathered tail swishing listlessly behind her.
"Petrel," she said deadpan, "I had hoped to have her just sleep until she passed away quietly doing so. It...it would be so much more painless for her..."
Petrel put her arm around her sister, trying to comfort her, "I know. But how can we explain that to a precocious little fireball like Peregrine?"
Watching her sister's face pinch slightly told Petrel she'd said the wrong thing, as Shearwater would have traded anything for Avocet to be a precocious little fireball. Here, Petrel was able to gain a brief insight into Shearwater's pain; all this madness, this pressure onto such a young fledgeling placed on her by the elders, and all because of a simple birth defect. Petrel thought of Avocet's abnormally small wings, stunted in growth by complications during her birth and she felt her spirit flare briefly inside of her before dying down once more. It wasn't the girl's fault, and yet she was being punished for it with a slow, torturous death. The latter part was because Shearwater couldn't bring it upon herself to let anyone, even herself end the girl's life quicker. The loss of her sister's mate had been quite a blow, but he'd always been so wise and worldly. Surely he would've had a better idea in mind than what was happening now. But alas, Kalaka had had other plans for him and spirited him and so many others away into whatever realm awaited this one. Petrel knew that the next time she saw a human, she wouldn't be able to resist flaying it alive.
Shearwater was still shaking her head slowly, her eyes dulled from both weakness and despair. Petrel hugged her silently, sighing, "Let her go for now. She can have one last happy dream to end on." she whispered.
/ooo/
"Avocet, come on! You're too slow!"
Avocet scrambled over a steep rock, her toe claws digging into its smooth surface for a foothold. She finally found one, shoving herself up weakly and gasping for air, struggling to placate her starving body. But Peregrine didn't understand her cousin's turmoil, waiting impatiently at the top of the rock and huffing every few minutes. When Avocet finally reached the top of the rock, Peregrine sighed dramatically, "You're way too slow! You should run more!"
Avocet was too weary to argue back, remaining silent as she stared out over the baking desert wastes, her tiny black, downy wings hanging limply at her back. Her eyes cloudy, her skin pasty and sickly, she stood motionless, wanting nothing more than to return to the cavern and to the warm embrace of slumber. Peregrine glanced over at her and frowned curiously, "What's the matter? Huh?"
She moved until she was standing in front of Avocet, peering into her blank face, "Are you hungry? I got some dried meat here...uh...here!" she cried, fishing through her pockets and coming up with a sliver of dried deer meat. She handed this to Avocet, who took it slowly, nibbling delicately on it. Her stomach growled the second she tasted the meat and she bolted it down in a flash without even really tasting its flavor. Peregrine's eyes widened; "I guess you were hungry, Avocet. Mama said you haven't been feeling well. I hope you feel better soon."
The smaller girl nodded once, still feeling the aching gnaw of hunger in her stomach. The edge was gone, but now it seemed that she felt hungrier than ever. She twitched her wings, hunching over slightly from the ache.
"Don't feel like playing?" Peregrine mumbled sadly. Avocet shook her head, making the other girl sigh in disappointment, "That's too bad. I'm so bored right now. I wanted to race."
With a little food in her belly, Avocet was able to think slightly more clearly, looking up at her cousin's dejected face and realizing how badly she had wanted to play with her, just like before. She stepped forward gingerly, minding how weak she still was. She tapped Peregrine on the shoulder, extending her black wings their full three foot span as she grinned weakly; "You're it." she mumbled.
Peregrine's face lit up and she beamed, "You get a head start!"
Avocet turned, jumping down from the rock and landing clumsily, her slightly bent back knees bending to absorb the blow of the fall. She pushed off, hurrying along the granite ledges as she made the best of her miniscule head start. After a few seconds, she heard the delighted shriek as Peregrine slid down the rock too, taking off after her. Avocet cantered at a steady pace, looking for a place to hide. Spying a gap in the cliff side, she squeezed in and crouched in the darkness, holding her breath and her movements as her exuberant cousin sped by. Pulling herself back out, Avocet promptly ran in the other direction, already beginning to pant in her exertion and lack of energy. She jumped down a small ledge, her ankle buckling from disuse. She hissed, snapping her jaws together in irritation as she struggled back to her feet, hobbling out of direct sight as Peregrine came back around the bend. Laughing, she turned around, scanning the jagged terrain with her sharp vision, "I'm gonna get you!" she chimed happily, hurrying up along the ragged trail. Avocet smiled limply as she managed to outwit her cousin this time, picking her way along the ledge about twenty feet off the pathway below leading back into the community cavern. Jumping over a small gap, she beat her wings once to keep her balance, feeling her heart pounding in her chest after going so long just sleeping. Even though she was tiring quickly, Avocet felt a little more alive through this simple game of hide and seek with her cousin. Moving beneath a sheltered outcropping, she crouched, taking a short break and listening for Peregrine's rapid footsteps. She still hadn't managed to track her cousin to the lower levels of the precipice, continuing to hunt for her up above.
"Avoceeeeet!" she called, "Where are you?!"
She stomped around up there angrily, annoyed that she couldn't find her smaller cousin. Her cheeks puffed out in her irritation and her feathers ruffled, "AVOCET!" she snapped.
About ten feet below, Avocet sighed and rolled her eyes. She opened her mouth, emitting a tiny, avian whistle into the air. This caught Peregrine's attention to the lower levels of the precipice and she grinned, "Hah! Gotcha!" she exclaimed, holding onto the ledge and dropping down to a smaller rock below. Directly below them and off to the right was the rocky pathway leading to the cavern, and beside that was a small ravine leading to the underground river that nourished the colony. It was about a forty foot drop. Moving carefully to avoid slipping, Avocet picked her way along the ledge, dislodging rocks and pebbles that clattered down the sides of the cliff and into the ravine. The noise alerted Peregrine to her position and she grinned, "I'm gonna get'cha!" she called. She let go of the ledge with one hand to grab another rock. As she did, the one she held jolted free of its anchor, causing Peregrine to gasp in terror as she was suddenly weightless. She screamed, smacking against the ledge below and her claws scrambling for a hold as she slowly slid toward the edge of the ravine.
Avocet whirled at the sound of Peregrine's distressed cry, bolting forward and snatching her hand before she could slide over the lip of the edge. But Avocet was tiny, her body too light to pull them up. All she could do was dig her claws into the rock and hold on while Peregrine swung below, clutching her hand for dear life and vainly trying to reach one of the rocks jutting out of the side.
"A-Avocet!" she squeaked, "I'm scared! Pull me up!"
The other fledgeling was straining to simply keep them both from plummeting into the ravine and the river below, grinding her teeth in her resolve. However, her claws continued to lose their hold, slowly sliding her forward and pushing her cousin further down, which made her scream again.
The noise drew out several of the adults, including Shearwater and Petrel. As soon as they saw their predicament, Petrel screamed; "Peregrine! Hang on, dear, don't let go!"
She wanted to spread her wings and fly up there to rescue her daughter, but the ledge the girls were hanging from was far too narrow for an adult to manage a safe landing and still hope to snag the two before they fell, dragging their rescuer down with them. Two older males rushed forward, one of them leaping across the ravine to snag the rock wall opposite, digging his talons into the rock to try to meet the girls halfway.
"Hold on!" he yelled.
Avocet could hear the commotion as the adults rushed to try to save them. But with every second, she felt herself sliding closer and closer to the edge, her grip weakening on Peregrine's hand. Her eyes opened and she looked across helplessly to the approaching male Avian, silently begging for help. He'd just about reached them and Avocet willed her hand to hold on for another minute. Peregrine shifted suddenly, trying to reach the male's hand as he reached out to grab them. Her moist palm slipped from Avocet's fingers and the young fledgeling watched in horror as Peregrine slipped silently out of her reach, plummeting toward the ravine below. She never made a sound as she fell, her eyes locked on those of her cousin in disbelief and fear.
The splash as she hit the river was heavy and Petrel started screaming. The other male who had come outside with his brother dove off the edge of the rock and into the water below, vanishing from view for several pregnant seconds. Meanwhile, the male who had been scaling the rock wall managed to get an arm around Avocet, dragging her off the ledge and unfurling his wings, beating them to propel himself backward as he gently glided down to the granite beneath them. Shearwater tore forward and gathered Avocet into her arms, sobbing hysterically as all of her stress, despair and anger bubbled to the surface in a single, uncontrollable wave. Avocet however, remained fixed on the river below as the male who had taken the plunge finally erupted to the surface about thirty feet downriver. Then, he took a breath and went under again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
/ooo/
In the blink of an eye, life can change. For those lucky enough that life favors their existence, their daily trials are often lessened, enabling them to better themselves and the lives of those around them with a lack of tribulation and strife to dog their heels wherever they go.
But for those to whom life turns a blind eye, the challenges can be rough indeed. Going through life with only a vague understanding of why you're being punished when you've done nothing wrong is one of the great injustices of the universe and there are many who die long before they receive an answer. Some say the suffering is payment for mistakes made during a previous existence. Others say that the trials pave the way for a better future. And still others say that your trials are what you make of them, to either overcome or succumb to.
For one young Avian fledgeling, not even old enough to hunt, the trials were just beginning. In the vaguest part of the shock she'd forced her mind into, she could hear someone crying and screaming, pleading with somebody. She felt a hand on her shoulder, firm and intimidating, guiding her along. She hard a sharp voice demanding, followed by an even sharper voice admonishing. More screaming and begging, as that voice began to grow further and further away. Her feet moved automatically, guided by an unseen force. Her mind was hazy. Someone was speaking to her;
...You'll need it.
Need what?
...head to the...western...
Her senses were blurry, her eyes unfocused. It was only when the familiar, comforting smell of desert sand and dust finally left her nose, replaced with a strange, musty, strong and unfamiliar scent that she began to wake up slightly. In time to feel the hand leaving her shoulder, she stopped walking and turned, eyes wide as she noticed the elder Condor, his graying wings folded tightly against his back and his very long, matching tail moving elegantly, silently behind him.
"W...Wait!" she called. He stopped, glancing back to her with a dead glaze over his eyes. His graying feathers hung over his eyes, his mouth set in a thin line. Avocet now saw that they were standing at the edge of the Darkling Woods, a thick forest on the outskirts of their remaining territory. Very few Avians dared to come out this far due to the high number of humans living in the area. Behind elder Condor were two other council members, both of them watching her blankly.
"Our guidance has ended for you," Condor told her softly, "You are to make your own way from this point forward."
Avocet took a step forward, "But...I—"
Elder Condor hissed suddenly, causing her to step back fearfully. His feathers had extended above his head, and now they lowered slowly, reaching past his center back. He ruffled his wings, "You are no longer welcome in this territory, fledgeling. Guide your own future by Kalaka's ordainment."
Avocet felt her heart clench up as they began to turn away, heading back to the colony, "But...my mother! My brother!" she cried, "I need to...I need to go back to them! Elder Condor!"
"Do not follow us." Elder Condor barked, "You may not return here."
Avocet stared fearfully, even as she could feel something heavy and unpleasant rising up from the pit of her stomach. She snapped her small wings open, "Why!? What have I done!?" she snarled, her head now feeling faint from the lack of food and this sudden exertion.
"Kalaka has scorned you, fledgeling. Your wings are far too small; you will never fly. You will never protect the clan. Make your own way." Elder Condor said, beckoning his two followers to come with him.
Avocet immediately tried to run after them, but a vicious snarl from one of the others rooted her back to her spot. She tried again, this time with the same result. Forced to stand her ground, she clenched her fists, watching them walk away as she flexed her wings in and out in frustration. She squeezed her eyes shut, her whole body shaking from a new pressure she couldn't even describe. Her eyes snapped open, "You wait, Elder Condor! I'm going back! One day I'll be strong enough to come back and kill you! I will!" she screamed.
They didn't turn or speak. She received no reply to her angry outburst. She thought about trying to follow them back once they got out of sight, but the memory of being snarled at so ferociously made her pause. If she returned to the colony now, she might very well be killed. And aside from being too small to fight, she was also starving. She turned, her head low in exhaustion and dismay as she collapsed against the roots of an enormous tree of some kind. Gazing up into the canopy, she watched the fading sunlight trickle through the branches and a gentle breeze blew leaves down onto her face. Curling up in the dense roots, she directed her gaze back toward home. Deep in her mind, she knew that if she just waited here long enough, her mother would eventually come to find her and bring her home. She just had to survive until then, she thought as her eyelids grew too heavy and began to close.
Just...until then...