~Bird songs~

by Ola

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A/N~ there are some sentences in a few different languages, but you don't necessarily need them to know what the story is about. If you still want to know what they mean, report to the end of this chapter. I hope you liked the previous chapter. Enjoy this one (hopefully). I will stop writing disclaimers. They are always the same.

Also, I am very sorry of not updating earlier, but I was away for all of my vacations, out of country, with no internet access (couldn't read any of your stories! Argg!). anyway, I'm back, and I'll keep posting often, since 90% of the story is already typed. Ok, on with the story now. Hope you enjoy it. =)

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Part 3~

            As I regained consciousness, I couldn't help groaning. My head felt like it would explode, as the sun pierced my eyelids. So this is what it feels like to get run over by a car? Came the thought out of nowhere. I tried moving my fingers and my toes. I nearly bit my tongue off when I did so with my left leg. After the pain ebbed somewhat, I opened my eyes and looked around. Right over my head, as if taunting me, my bad swang slowly from the branch. Whoever had pointed that arrow at me was gone, but I had the nagging feeling that it had all been a dream; that I had foolishly fallen asleep in the tree, and woken up on the ground. The sun was in about the same position, but I didn't know if I had been lying here for a few minutes or a whole day. However, it didn't really matter right now. I sat up, and this time did not block the flow of curses that left my mouth. I knew quite a lot of them. And in several languages too. It didn't help the situation, but it took my mind away from the pain for a short while. Way too short. But I finally ran out of breath, and had to stop, panting. As I calmed down, I assessed the damage. I had some minor scratches, lots of bruises, and ouch a fractured lag. A badly fractured leg. The bone was sticking out. My stomach did a flip when I first saw it, and I wondered how on earth I was going to fix it. I knew rudimentary first aid, but I did not have the materials or the knowledge to set a bone. All I knew was to clean the wound, not try to set it myself, and cal for help. Except that my radio was swinging on that branch up there, and even if I had it with me, it would take half a day for help to arrive, that is if they had a good guide of this region and knew where I was.

            At that moment, that damn mysterious bird chose to pipe up. Its voice and melody was beautiful. I finally burst into tears, cursing myself for this weakness, but unable to stop. I had prided myself for being an independent woman, and here I was, sitting on the ground, bawling like a two years old. I wouldn't let myself argue that I had just fallen off a tree, broken a leg, and maybe gotten a concussion as well. That was no excuse. With one last hiccup, I pulled myself together. I would not quit.

            Just then, out of the shadow stepped three tall men. I hadn't heard or seen them coming. It was as if one second, there was no one, and the next, here they were. All three wore dark green leggings and green jackets of some kind, and all had long bows hung on their back. So it was true! One of them did try to kill me! I immediately shrank back, painfully aware of my own lack of weapons. Once again, my eyes briefly glanced to hat bag in the tree. But the men did not draw their bows. They simply stared at me. And I didn't like when people did that.

"Hello? Do you speak English?" I tried, hesitantly at first. When no one answered, I continued.

"Parlez-vous francais? Italiano? Hablan usted espanol? Czy movi panstwo po polsku?" that was the extant of my foreign language experience, and those guys still hadn't moved. I was about to try making some signs with my hands when the one on the left asked:

"Who are you and what do you seek in this region?"

I was flabbergasted. Oh yeah; just stand there and let me make an ass of myself! I almost shouted. But before I could answer, the one next to the man who had spoken said something to his comrade in a tongue I did not understand. It sounded Scandinavian. And all three guys were tall, blond (with uncommonly long hair, but hey, who was I to judge? I was a woman and my hair was as short as could be without being almost bald. Well not quite, but it didn't even reach my ears.), had a very fair complexion, and bright blue eyes. I had taken them to be brothers, but after some scrutiny, I realized that they were actually quite different. The one who had spoken in that melodious language turned to me.

"Please excuse my friend for his behavior. He is still young and acts on impulses. But you are hurt. If you do not object, we will carry you back to our camp and tend your leg?" it was phrased as a question but almost sounded like an order.

With one last glance at my bag, then at my poor leg, I nodded. What did I have to loose? Only then did it come to my mind that the first speaker didn't look any younger than the other two, so why was he called so? It didn't make sense, but it was too late now. The third man who had kept silent picked me up as gently as possible, careful not to hurt my leg even more, and we were off into the trees.

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A/N~

Parlez-vous francais ?- do you speak french ?

Hablan usted espanol?- do you speak Spanish?

Czy movi panstwo po polsku?- do you speak polish?

Italiano is Italian (deuh! =) lol.

Sorry again for this little inconvenience. Please be nice and review? Okay?

~Ola~