She looked out upon the world with eyes the color of a rainstorm at its peak; a cloudy, dark grey and raindrops of mourning twinkling in the beady eyes.
A hand reached out to her, inching closer and closer until the sane-colored skin was close enough for her to see the rings on the fingertip. "Come 'ere. Ye're a beaut'. Come on out. Yeh, now tha's it."
She took a step out from the foliage and felt exposed with not leaves brushing against her feathers. But, she kept on crawling out, for that on-going, soothing voice was convincing and honest.
Once she had stepped out and into plain view, a frightening sight awaited her.
A frightful sight of peach and chocolate toned creatures, all either standing on two feet or supporting themselves on the ground, their two legs turned at awkward angles, although the faces of these creatures showed nothing akin to pain. Most of them did, however, appear scared out of their wits; some were backing up as far away from her as possible, while others squealed their emotion out and some even appeared paralyzed in place by fear.
In response to them, she looked up to the sky, wondering if it was to rain--these strange creatures often acted as such when a rainfall was expected.
Indeed it was. The clouds above were rolling away quickly, separating and joining together rapidly. Even the air was heavy with the smell of promised rain.
Her jet beak opened, and a small, black tongue snuck out as she gave a long, low, mournful cry and held the note until she was satisfied, closing her mouth and looking to the awkward creatures.
Many gasped in shock.
"My mam always told me to avoid them," a boy with hair the color of summer grain commented to no one in particular.
"We're gonna die! Oh no, we're gonna die! What will Gran think?"
"Neville, you aren't going to--"
"Hagrid, what do you think you're doing, bringing an Augrey to class?" someone said, cutting off the girl with hair similar to some of the thickest parts of the forest; the ones that you could never free yourself from.
"We're going to die... I'm so young! And there's Snape's essay on space manipulation potions due on Wednesday! I'm gonna die..." the boy named Neville mumbled on, pacing back and forth in the small clearing.
"Haven't any of you read any of your texts? Are the lot of you somehow living in the times fo a century ago? You are not--"
"I'm gonna die." Neville stamped his foot down, as if it would kill that prospect that wasn't even there. He turned from side to side in desperation and then ran off--in no particular direction.
"Oi! Someone go an' fetch Neville, o' else he's going'ta find hisself near tha Willow." Eight figures ran off after the other boy. "Ey! I said one o' ya! Nat all o' ya! Come back 'ere!"
The Augrey ruffled her forest-colored feathers and cast another glance up to the sky, opening her mouth to sing another mournful noted--one to pull at anyone's heart strings.
A moment later, silver rain droplets were slicing through the air and beating upon everything in the area. Soon after that, everyone from the Care of Magical Creatures class was running away.
The mournful bird flapped her wings and took off to fly through the storm, giving one last cry as she took off.
