Unnatural Selection
Desolation.
Grey rocks.
Rolling waters.
Crashing waves.
The land before him.
Hope-In-His-Liver glided with the wind, feeling the warmth of the hot-season's air on his wings. At least he felt a mild warmth, it likely never was a true hot-season this far along the coast and away from the ranges that he knew.
But he was certain that this was the flight for him. Season-cycles of flying on his own had passed since he flew the pack. It was a small pack, and all the unclaimed females in it were too close kin to him to be good mates. They also had a preference for the stronger and more... biting of the males because those made for the most protective and fierce mates.
He was different.
He was slightly smaller than the others and had little fighting-wanting in his liver. He was the last that his own sire and dam had hatched, and he had never gotten as much food as he wanted.
That was the normal way. The way of nature. It cared not for the smaller or the weaker. They should be lost to make the pack stronger if they cannot provide in some other way.
That is why he wanted something different. A better way. He felt how the normal way could chill ones life-fire. Few of his old pack members had wanted to listen to that.
It was one moon-cycle ago when everything changed for him after much wandering. That is when he started hearing the whispering in his sleep-visions. A soft calling that guided his flight to a far range where he met...
Her.
She was a strange she-kin of a kind he had never seen before. She told him with her thinking-voice that she spoke for the sky-breath and the great sky-rock up above. They would help to guide his flight.
'Light wing, you have a choice. You can live a safe life alone in hiding in the wild above, or you can fly to a hidden world that you know not. You can find a good, warm mate in that hidden world, but there will also be danger.'
'I will fly that flight.'
'Good. Promise me this. Do not let the normal way guide your flight. You must do something that no light wing has done before.'
'What?'
'You will know when it is time. Tell your first hatchling about the above world. Tell them about the great sky-rock.'
'They must know about this filled with danger world? Why?'
'Because I feel that they will fly great winds, and they will change the world. Go and fly now with hope in your liver.'
He found the great cave mouth in the side of the mountain, exactly as was promised. His flight carried him inside where he landed, paused, and looked back at the world he was leaving behind. His pack, sire, and dam were out there somewhere, but he flew from all of them.
So much beauty, wildness, emptiness, and danger.
He was flying on his own now but hopefully not for much longer.
Then he turned tail on all he knew and vanished into the deeps.
The hidden ranges were completely unlike anything that he had ever seen in the above. Rocks and plants burned with light. The ground prey were many. There were no two-legs at all. That was good and warming because of how safe it meant this range was.
Everything about the hidden ranges fed the burning fire in his liver. It was safe and much not like what She had said it would be.
What was she thinking? There is no danger in these ranges.
A confused warble.
Where are the other kin?
He continued on in his flight through long chambers and massive caves. Over stretches of water and fields of grass and strange trees. Through darker parts of the world. Into a large range filled with water on one side and land with many trees on the other. It was also very bright, almost like in the above.
A flash of color caught his attention down below the trees.
What?
He dove down after it as it bounded out from the trees in pursuit of a four-leg prey. The prey was quickly tackled and grounded, but he barely noticed that.
The light wing down below him had a faint red shine to her wings and scales. Her wings were large, and she was clearly a capable hunter from how she grounded the prey and killed it so quickly. She was clearly an adult like him.
Hope glowed within his liver. There did not seem to be any other light wings around. Maybe she had no mate. He was not one to fight to take an already-claimed mate or try to break apart a nest. Few were that twisted, but some males would try that. He was not as strong as the others.
Maybe...
He dove down across from her after giving a soft roar to announce himself. She immediately crouched down over her catch and warily stared at him as he settled down onto his rear and stared toward her.
Her deep blue eyes were as vivid as the clear sky above. She was strong, quick, and surely dangerous from her bared teeth and sharp claws. So beautiful and liver-warming. There were no hurt-marks anywhere on her scales or hide. Her wings were quite strong also.
He was very content to sit there and stare in awe at her even as she stalked closer to him. Such beautiful blue eyes, much deeper than his own that were a somewhat lighter blue.
Her voice was so pure, so strong, so kind, he could listen to her voice an entire sun-cycle...
Then she started batting him on the nose with a paw.
"Grr, what was that for?" he groaned as he hopped back from the not-vicious attack.
She huffed in clear amusement.
"Good, he has words..."
"Yes, I have words. Why would I not?"
"You were not talking to me."
He hummed softly and bent his head toward her.
"My sorrow, I have not seen another light wing in over a seasons-cycle."
She tilted her head in confusion, her ears lifting slightly.
"Seasons? What?"
What?
"What do you mean? Hot-seasons, life-slowing-seasons, cold-seasons, and new-life-seasons," he explained.
"I do not understand," she grumbled.
This was twisted. What kin would not know about seasons? Maybe she was very, very simple in her thinking, but that felt very false.
"What is your name?" he asked, trying to change the subject.
She blinked in surprise at the question. That seemed twisted also.
"Name? You have a name also?" she exclaimed.
His jaw hung open slightly in confusion.
"Yes, I am Hope-In-His-Liver."
"I am Paws-At-Bright-Flowers," she hummed back.
"Why is my having a name twisted?" he wondered.
"It is not twisted. I came from a far pack that has a much-twisting way of living. All the light wings in the pack have no names."
"Why not?" he sat down on his rear and hummed his confusion though his tail also betrayed that.
"Because they think only of the pack. They do not think of their own self as different from the pack."
"That is much twisted thinking of them. Every pack is made of the ones in the pack. All have wants that are not only those wants of the pack."
She huffed in clear agreement.
"You have strong thinking, Hope-In-His-Liver. Why do you have that name?"
"Because I have not let weak thinking into my liver. Even when I would sleep alone in cold caves in the above, I would never..."
"The above," she exclaimed, "you flew from the above!"
That answered the biggest question he had. She did not know of seasons because there were no seasons in this hidden world, which she had apparently never flown from.
"Yes, my old pack flies in the above."
She stepped closer to him, clearly without any wariness. Her eyes were wide with wonder and curiosity.
"I do not know the above."
Then she turned to the prey and flicked her head at it.
"Will you tell me about it as... we eat?"
He purred at that.
She listened attentively as he told her about the most... normal things. The sun's warmth on scales. Rainfall from clouds. The crashing and growling flashes of sky-lights. The types of four-leg prey.
He eagerly waited and took his time with the meat as she told him about far hidden ranges. Caverns filled with black mist that no kin ever flies into. Caverns filled with bright, warm light from light rocks that grow up into the hidden sky. Deep waters with fish and other water-prey. Ranges filled with swarms of kin like nests. She had been from the middle of her sire and dam's hatchling-order.
She grew more chilled as she talked about the other kin though.
"What?" he asked.
Her answer was to lift her head and look around.
"I flew from the pack and other ranges so that I could be away from most other kin."
"Are they filled with danger and fighting-wanting?"
"Many are. Some kin can live in the same nests and not fight because they do not need the same hunting or dens. Others do fight much."
She looked down at her paws.
"Many young can die because of fighting and hunting."
"Kin hunt other kin?" he growled.
"Some do."
He took a moment to think about that badness. The hidden world was not as big as the world above, it seemed. The prey and hunting must be limited. Kin would fight other kin for hunting or even to make the other kin into prey.
It was... necessary and the normal way..
"And this range here is far from other filled-with-danger kin, true?" he wondered.
"True, you are the first light wing I have seen in two sleep-cycles, and the nearest pack is maybe four sleep-cycles from here."
They returned to finish off the prey. He licked his paws and claws clean once there was nothing but bones and hide.
"This was my first hunt in this range," she purred with pride.
"It was well-hunted. I saw you ground it."
She blinked.
"You were watching my hunt?"
She had to know. It had to be obvious.
"I saw your catching of it at the end of the hunt."
She flashed her teeth.
"I am warmed by catching with my teeth and claws instead of fire and hiding. The true hunt helps me to stay strong."
"You are strong, Paws-At-Bright-Flowers."
"Paws is enough," she chuckled.
"Then I am Hope," he answered.
She purred at that and then looked up at the surrounding range.
"I do not even have a den claimed in this range yet," she mumbled.
He took a breath, knowing well that this was the moment. This sky between them had to be flown eventually.
"Do you want me to help you look for one?"
He had not asked if she had a mate or not. There was no need. She said that she had not seen another light wing in two sleep-cycles. She had an alone-scent. There was no male in her life-flight. Not yet.
Her deep blue eyes never looked away from his.
"Yes."
Then she spun away from him and took to the hidden sky. He let out the breath that he had been holding and flew after her with warmth in his liver.
His thoughts flew to the above and to a very far mountain peak.
You guided my flight well.
Patience.
It was a strength of his.
His own sire and dam had told him of that many times.
Being around Paws was testing that patience much in a very good way.
It had to have been just over a moon-cycle in the above since he had found her. In all that time they had done much together. Found a good cave to claim as a den together. Hunted ground-prey. Vanished into the deep waters where they hunted fish and swam circles around the other. Played games of touch the tail. Talked much about the nest-packs they came from and how twisted some ceremonies were. His own flights in the above while staying away from the flee-on-sight two-legs.
She had needed much explanation to truly understand the danger in those creatures that she had never seen before. His telling her about kin-bones kept as hunting and killing-signs was enough to make her growl softly and to swear on her wings that she was never going to fly to the above. He had no objections to the idea of staying here always in hiding.
Hunting as one. Flying as one. Resting as one. But not...
Sigh.
They hauled themselves out of the deep water after swimming to shore. He dried himself off first since she liked swimming a bit more than he did. It had been good hunting with several fish each securely in their bellies.
She turned to him with a very devious look in her eyes.
What are you...
She shook herself wildly and flapped her wings to dry herself off, getting him wet again.
"What was that for?"
Her laughter was enough answer to him. Though it did not stop him from lunging at her and clamping his maw around her tail in retaliation. She aimed a slow strike at him and forced him to let her go. Then she leapt for the sky.
Fine. A chase it is.
She led them away from the water and over the mostly flat plain toward the forest of almost-trees that had a clearing with long grass and a small pond. It was not too far from the den but still felt like a different world even in this range. It was very green with the occasional prey animal and with many glowing flowers throughout.
It was also a place where they had spoken about some of their most liver-warming and chilling life-stories.
They touched down together in the long grass. He knew that something was different from the moment they landed and she curled up with her tail around her front paws.
She almost always started talking about something, she was very curious compared to all other light wings he remembered, but this time she was more withdrawn, hesitant, or...
He stepped closer to her and froze.
His flight from his old pack had been after he become an adult with all the natural life-making wanting. He knew how to tell when a female was in her season and ready to make an egg.
She was very ready and had wanting.
Different packs and nests have different ceremonies, that much he knew from his own life-flight. Some females prefer the male who brings back the largest and most frequent catches of prey. Those males would be best at providing for any hatchlings. Other females want only the smartest-thinking males who win at certain tests of thinking. They would likely make the smartest-thinking hatchlings. Other females wanted only a very strong male who could catch and claim her by force. They would likely make the strongest hatchlings.
What would Paws want?
A very brief moment of thought followed before he remembered her first hunt that he saw. She was a hunter who enjoyed the catch up close.
So he acted and jumped at her. She was clearly unprepared for the strike and was caught by surprise as he pinned her on her back and stilled her tail. She could not struggle because he held her neck in his jaws.
It was so easy to claim her then. He should make her his. He was very ready also.
But...
Her eyes... so deep blue and filled with a warm fire... he could not see them now.
His liver burned with wanting, yes, but there was another wanting that was strong.
She listened to him. She played with him. She did not turn tail on him because he was smaller.
She was different.
Just like him.
Was he trying to be something he was not?
He let go of her neck and lifted his head so that he could stare into her blue eyes. She said nothing for several wingbeats until she whispered.
"Hope, what... is wrong?"
"I... wanted to know... what you want..."
"You would... think about me... even now?" she blinked.
"Yes," he growled.
"What I want?" she purred.
She lifted her head toward his and wrapped her tail around his.
"You know what I want, now and always."
The egg was somewhat small, at least compared to others he had seen, and pure white.
He was the one watching over it when it moved for the first time. It was a small thing, just a tiny rocking from side to side, but he had roared in joy nonetheless and immediately told Paws. They very rarely left its side from then on. There was never a quiet moment in the den after that. They filled the den with songs, words, and stories, all so that the little one within would hear much and be curious about the world beyond.
He had seen other pair's eggs from his time in the pack, and she knew some from her time in her pack. They both knew that the size of the little one at hatching did not truly matter much. A smaller hatchling would still grow to a full size with enough food. There was much food in this range with no competing kin to fight against.
It was time.
The moment that he had dreamed about all his life. His first little one was about to hatch and be welcomed into the hidden world.
Their eyes lay on the egg wobbling slightly in the warm sand. There were already a few tiny cracks in the shell.
They were still waiting a while later. The egg was still rocking and the cracks were larger, but the crucial breaks had not yet happened.
"You can do it little one," he crooned to it during a lull in the movement.
The egg trembled once and then went still.
It was not moving.
The hatching stopped.
"Why is it not moving?" he hissed.
"The little one must be... small and cannot hatch," she whimpered.
Bad!
Wrong!
"No..."
Nature was reaching out its sharp claws and biting teeth to tear at his liver even now. The normal way would kill this little one before it even had a chance in life!
'Do not let the normal way guide your flight.'
He looked down at his claws and back to the egg.
'You must do something that no light wing has done before.'
He knew in that moment what he had to do. Without wasting another moment, he stepped forward and lay down next to the egg. With a single claw tip, he began tapping at the shell repeatedly, slowly widening the cracks until one crucial break happened. It was only a small hole, maybe the size of a very small tooth, but it was enough. That hole let air into the egg again.
The little one within seemed to regain its strength at the new air and started stretching and pushing against the egg again, making it wobble with the little ones renewed strength. The cracks grew wider, and larger chunks of shell were torn away. With a great burst of strength, the hatchling broke the shell and tumbled onto the ground. Then it lay there on the rock and mewled piteously, completely tired and unable to right itself.
A small female.
They were both afraid to touch her, as if doing so would hurt her. Finally, he ever so carefully reached out with a slightly trembling paw and rolled her over onto her belly. She protested against the strange force with a chirp and forced open her eyes which were a brilliant light blue to contrast with her dam's deep blue.
For a moment, she looked unsure of them both, but then they started crooning and purring to her. She cried out to them, recognizing the sound from her time in the egg, and tried to get to her feet, but she was still too unsteady and collapsed on her belly with a tiny grunt.
Paws grabbed a fish that they had saved and dropped the already-chewed on fish before the hatchling. The little one froze when she smelled the fish, and her eyes went impossibly wide before she lunged and fiercely attacked the fish.
She was beautifully proportioned and very sleek, except for her increasingly full belly. Her light blue eyes were very much alive with awareness and curiosity. Even while munching on the fish, her gaze seemed to wander every which way. Paws took the time while the hatchling was busy feeding to clean her.
"She is very small," Paws quietly remarked.
"She will grow strong. Stronger than either of us," Hope warmly rumbled back to her.
As soon as she finished the last bit of fish, the hatchling gurgled happily and looked up at his nearby nose. She went cross-eyed for a moment as she tried to focus on him. She then raised a tiny forepaw and began batting at his nose, making him and Paws both rumble with warmth.
The hatchling eventually tired of all playing, yawned widely, and stumbled toward her dam's side. A white wing went out and covered the hatchling.
"You saved her..." Paws rumbled.
"I had to. I think that the egg was too strong for her."
A solemn, almost pained look fell on Paws in that moment.
"I have... never heard of a sire do that before. Most would not want a weak hatchling to come from them. It... makes the pack weak," she sneered even as she said it.
"Even if that is true, does the hatchling deserve a chance to prove itself? We all need help from another when the winds of life blow much against the flight."
"And I did nothing..." she whimpered.
He stepped closer to her and nuzzled her nose.
"Nothing? You made a strong egg, sang to her, and sat the egg well. We made her together and brought her to life together."
Paws leaned forward at his words and licked his cheek.
"Should we give her a name now?" she asked.
He hummed in thought at the question. Obviously they were going to give her a name. But what name?
A remembered promise drifted to him in that moment. He had agreed to do something in exchange for being told how to find this world where he found his life-mate.
'Tell your first hatchling about the above world. Tell them about the great sky-rock.'
"You remember how I told you how I found the hidden world?" he softly hummed.
"Yes."
"I told that she-kin that I would take my first little one to the above so that they could see the great sky-rock once my first is grown enough."
He bent down to the ground and nosed closer to his sleeping hatchling until his breaths rustled her wings and tiny fins. Then he lifted his head away from her and looked back at Paws.
"She is the same color of light as the great night-sky-rock. We should call her Sky-Rock-Gazer."
Author's Note – I think you know who Sky-Rock-Gazer is. There is also a clear parallel in this with another sweet scene.