"How's she doing?" Carter asked Batman as they both watched Shayera fly into a wall…again.
"She's doing better," Batman said in his gruff voice causing Carter to step away in mild fear. "She no longer feels pain when she wears them." He watched as Shayera flew through a makeshift obstacle course.
"Yeah," Carter said, "Hawks who have lost their organic wings have a hard time adjusting to the faux wings. Part of the wings that connects to the body, safely reattaches to the place the organic wings once were. You can't tell from the outside, but those wounds never heal. It just becomes scar tissue. It's why it hurts."
"Hmm," Batman groaned in response as Shayera flew to the man, landing ungracefully on her feet. "That was my best time," she gasped, actually sweating and out of breath. Batman silently walked past her, gently brushing shoulders. "Where are you going?" Shayera asked.
"Raising the difficulty level," Batman replied, leaving the two hawks alone.
"A real chatty one, he is," Carter said.
"He's harmless," Shayera said. Carter raised an eyebrow. "If you're his friend. Other than that, he is very deadly," she amended.
"Sweet. I'm guessing you know his secret identity," Carter said.
"What makes you say that?" Shayera asked.
"You've been staying with him for like, 4 months." Shayera only shrugged her shoulders. "You guys…together?"
"You talk a lot," Shayera glared at him.
"Silence makes me nervous. Always has. You don't remember me, do you?" Shayera stared at him, recognition nowhere on her face. "Graduation day. Twelve years ago. I got pinned to the wall. Twenty arrows flying at me. You deflected them all." Shayera thought back…hard.
Shayera was almost finished. One more obstacle and she would break the record. She dodged flaming arrows, flew through spiked hoops that would snap shut in intervals. (The spikes were pointed inward.) The finish line was a couple feet ahead, when something on the other side of the U-shaped course caught her eye. One of her classmates…Caryn…Tarer…Cat…she couldn't remember his name, but he was pinned to the wall, arrows pointing at him from every direction. Unbidden, a cloud of fury she didn't know she had hanging over her head dispersed rained rage down on her. She cut across the obstacle course. She could hear shocking gasps from the audience. With a burst of speed, Shayera came to a halt right in front of what's-his-name and deflected all the arrow with her mace. The stadium went silent. The obstacle course began to slowly shut down. But Shayera didn't care. She pulled the arrow out of the boy's wing. "Thanks," he said. Shayera didn't answer him. She did place his arm around her shoulder and helped him to the finish line. She still didn't acknowledge the boy's existence. She was glaring at her father who was marching towards her. Fury, rage – those words didn't come close to what she saw on his face. Also, he wasn't flying. She was in a lot of trouble. But a part of her no longer cared. She could see her father's hard eyes murdering her from behind his cowl. Behind him was her mother and demented sister, who looked like she was about to burst with laughter any moment. Her father stood in front of her, breathing heavy, body shaking with anger. His wrath was palpable. He demanded she kneel before him without saying anything. His eyes said it all. Shayera returned his glare. The pain from her father's slap didn't register until she hit the ground. Her vision had gone white for a split second. She lifted a shaky hand to her face. Half of her mask was gone. Blood came from her nose and mouth, the pain immediately setting in. Her skull was on fire, and she wanted to scream and cry. But Talov was not finished with his daughter. She watched as her father grabbed her wing, painfully. He dragged her, slammed her wing against the wall, and pinned it to the wall via spear. Searing, white – hot pain rushed through her entire body. She had to release a scream. She watched with blurry vision as her family walked away from her, her sister smiling at her before whipping her head and body around. Shayera slowly reached up, tears rushing down her face, to the spear protruding from her wing. With all her remaining strength, she yanked the spear from her wing and fell to her knees. The pain was unbearable. Her ears were ringing; blood was gushing from the wound on her wing. She slowly stood to her feet, struggling. She took one step and fell to the ground in a heap. Shayera decided to stay right where she was – curled up in a ball, her injured wing covering her body – as she prayed for death.
"That was you?" Shayera exclaimed, her eyes widening in shock. Carter nodded. "I never got the chance to say 'thank you'," he continued nervously, "so thank you." Shayera simply nodded. "Ready to go again?" Batman asked.
"How long has he been standing there?" Carter whispered. "How did I night hear him? Did you hear him? I didn't."
"Relax, Carter," Shayera landed hard, bro-hit to his back. Carter flinched in pain. That was going to bruise. Shayera walked into the gym, ready to run through the obstacle course again.