Updated: 4/27/2023
Chapter Three: Offering Among a Fallen Feather
The female ringwrist stood over the azure eggs, her head tilting every which way as she inspected them under the moonlight. Feather that Falls from Sky, known as Feather by her two brothers, had never seen such eggs before. They were sickleclaw eggs by shape and smelled like a greatshadow, but… She leaned in, sniffing the speckled eggs for the umpteenth time. There was something else about them. Something unusual. Almost like the keentalon nest she and her brothers had ransacked a moon cycle ago with the handsome, gold-eyed male they sometimes raided with.
But that wasn't it either.
There was something oddly familiar about the other smell. Something that she couldn't put her claw on but made her feathers rise on end and a small, roiling fire burn in her chest. Every time she took a whiff, the anger would rise, but the memories wouldn't surface.
Feather clicked her beak and fanned her wheat-colored tail feathers in frustration. The eggs smelled so strange, and she wanted to figure out their origin before taking the whole nest. Maybe if she tasted one, she could figure out what they were. And she better get to it fast before the mother returned. Feather was in the Scarlet Grove, after all. However, if she was lucky enough, they didn't have a mother.
The goose reached a wheat-winged arm for an egg but stopped. Eyes were on her. Just one pair, but they stared so deeply into her that an icy chill raced through the thick, wiry dark-sepia feathers that coated her back. "Guess your mama's here, huh, little eggies?"
The clay-scaled goose turned her small head toward the eyes. Even in the thick, nightly darkness of the shadowed trees, a pair of dark-amber eyes stared back, glinting yellow-green when the moon's light hit them just right. Those eyes were a deeper shade of amber than the ringwrist's jasper gaze. Feather's eyes were colored more like the setting sun than the predator's dark honeyed gaze.
"What kind of mother abandons her eggs when ringwrists are about?" the goose asked in her native language of Roottongue, posturing over the eggs and giving a low, mocking hiss. "Come here, big beasty. Watch me nab one of your eggs while my legs carry me faster than you brutes could ever run."
The mother greatshadow emerged from the shadows.
All the blood drained from Feather's face. A powerful body covered in scarlet feathers dull with age, scars littering the light-red scaled snout and featherless legs, and the formel's eyes were so cold — staring, locked on Feather as she stood over the nest of three tiny eggs.
"There's-there's no way these are yours, Bloody." Feather crouched closer to the nest, watching any change of emotion flicker in those dark-amber eyes. The eggs were too tiny for a strongbiter, and The Bloody Beldam's stories had been told long before Feather was hatched. Still, Feather couldn't deny that the eggs smelt of greatshadow. Maybe some mocking words of encouragement might bring something out of the elderly alpha. "Ya watching over some keentalon eggs, or do you want the clutch for yourself? Did ya kill the mother, and now you're going to steal her babies? I'd say that's something The Bloody Beldam would do."
The Bloody Beldam didn't move; those unblinking eyes locked on Feather. The gaze said more than it needed to. So cold. So hateful. So murderous. But the goose didn't care. She trusted the speed of the powerful legs she was born with and the swiftness of her nimble hands. Besides, she would have a story to tell her brothers and fellow nest raiders, even if she only nabbed one egg.
Feather smirked to herself and moved her clawed hand away from the eggs, watching the scarlet formel. She knew what she was doing, even with the deadly predator standing strides from her. The clanless trio of siblings had been stealing eggs from flatteeth and sharpteeth for years, even from dullteeth and other swiftlegs. Her younger brother, Ozokerite that Dwells in Stone had put the clan in mortal danger several times because of his insatiable desire for eggs. The last and only time the clan caught them was because Ozzy had to have those threehorn eggs. He dragged Feather and their youngest brother, He Who Struts in Field, into his mess. Not that either complained, but it resulted in the three siblings' banishment. Feather hadn't been all that miffed about it. She rather enjoyed the lack of shackles. Strut had been the only one that wailed over it, but he looked up to his older siblings too much to run back crying to the clan. It wasn't like they had any family wanting them to stay anyway. Their parents and other siblings had been killed by strange, flying featherwing earthborn a few moon cycles before the trio was banished.
Feather cleared her throat, letting the rougher, guttural speech of Thorntongue fall into place. The natural, breathy lilt of her native Roottongue still clung to each word that slipped from her beak. "For all the talk about the greatshadow with feathers like that of freshly spilled blood who forever has blood following in her wake, I expected something more threatening. And smarter. Can't even understand a lick of Roottongue."
The greatshadow blinked.
Feather smiled to herself, searching the elderly alpha for anything else. She could get away with this a little easier than she expected. Even though it was The Bloody Beldam she was facing, that didn't mean the formel wanted the eggs, let alone that they came from the formel's body. Sure, they were laid in the forest, away from the pack, and they didn't smell quite like other greatshadow eggs, so they at least had a connection with the Pack of the Scarlet Feather. Either way, there was quite a story behind their tiny azure-and-speckled shells. And my, would Feather have some stories to spread to the other swiftlegs. She just needed to get more out of the alpha before taking them.
Chuckling under her breath, Feather dipped ever closer to the three tiny eggs, claws a mere breath from grazing their speckled surfaces. "Why don't you let a new mother have herself a meal? You don't need to protect these eggs, Bloody. It's their mother's fault for having them out here rather than in that big bad pack of greatshadows you lead. I'm doing you a favor by getting rid of them. If the mother didn't lay them within your pack's protection, then there must be some reason she laid them out here. And if she laid them here, those reasons must be so bad that maybe… banishment might come to her…hmm?" Feather dropped her head close to the eggs, breathing deeply through her nares. "They don't quite smell like strongbiter eggs. Kind of a mix of keentalon if I had to pick the other scent. But that isn't it either."
The Bloody Beldam's sickled claws flexed. The hardness in her eyes burned.
"Oh?" Feather stood to her full height, though, not as tall as the greatshadow. "You must know who laid these eggs, then. Of course you do. You're the alpha of the Pack of the Scarlet Feather. Is it a close friend of yours that can't have their secret spilled? Let me take the eggs; your friend won't have to worry about anything. Besides, why should an alpha have to watch over a nest in the forest when she has a pack to look after?" The goose reached for an egg, her claws tapping the shell.
A low, rumbling growl sounded deep from the scarlet formel.
Feather withdrew her hand, tucking it close to her chest, staring at the greatshadow with mock surprise before a smirk curled at the corners of her beak. "Don't tell me… these are your eggs? The Bloody Beldam had a tryst with some strange keentalon and laid fertile eggs? Oh, that's a story to tell. I wonder what your pack will think?"
The growl grew louder. The Bloody Beldam stepped forward, entire body rippling with tension.
"You don't want these eggs, do you, Bloody?" Feather stroked the center egg almost lovingly. "You're old. Their sire isn't even a sickleclaw. You're an alpha. You've had several other children already. It's just your maternal instincts talking to you. I'll be doing you a favor if I take them." The goose looked up, jasper eyes glowing like the setting sun in the darkness of the night. "I know I've tasted nothing like them before."
The blazing flame in the dark-amber gaze turned into a lifeless smolder.
"Come on. Just let me happen, and I won't say a lick about it. I'm doing you a favor, Bloody. You can return to your pack like nothing happened and won't have to worry about this." Feather gestured to the other two eggs.
"Run off, egg stealer. I will let you return to your nest if you have not already eaten your brood."
"Dare you say that about me?" Feather gasped in mock hurt, a hand pressed to her chest and beak agape. "It can't be helped that my dear beloved brother and I have a taste for eggs. Besides, isn't the world better off with a few less sharpteeth, especially big bitches like you or…" she trailed off, jasper gaze slipping down to the nest. "Your damned mix-blood offspring?" She wrapped her long spindly fingers around the centermost egg and lifted it from the nest. "Now, Bloody, let me take these off your hands. My babies will hatch any day now, and they'll be hungry for some freshly laid eggs."
"In the Scarlet Grove?"
Feather scoffed. "I'm not dumb, Bloody."
She reached for a second egg, claws gracing its surface, only for the first to slip from her grasp. Cursing under her breath, Feather adjusted her grip as a shadow fell upon her. Powerful jaws were around her neck, fangs gracing her soft clay-colored scales. The scarlet formel was no longer standing a step away from the tree.
"Put the egg back."
Feather stared into one dark-amber eye that burned with the will of a hellbent mother. Teeth pressed a little more into flesh and feather, the smell of her own blood filling her nares. Just a slip of an egg and a moment to adjust it so it didn't splatter to the ground and ruin a perfect meal had put Feather in her current position. Shakily, the goose lowered the azure egg back among its siblings.
"Good." The Bloody Beldam sunk her teeth deep into Feather's neck.
Powerful claws dug into the ringwrist's flanks as the large formel dragged her away from the nest. A gargled gasp came from Feather, blood streaming from her neck and dripping down her beak. She scrabbled her long arms against the formel's neck but found no purchase among the thick feathers. Life faded from her jasper eyes like the last set of the sun until eternal nightfall.
Feather that Falls from Sky was no more.
Blood-Seeker tossed the ringwrist's body aside, licking the blood from her lips. She watched the bloodied clay and dark-sepia body for the rise and fall of breath. Seeing nothing, Blood-Seeker spoke, voice low and harsh, as if she, too, had just gargled on her own blood. "Death catches everyone, some sooner than others. Now, your children will hatch motherless, if they hatch at all. May your copper-eyed brother not devour them out of temptation."
Blood-Seeker raised her head to the full moon. "You are nothing now, egg-eater. May that be a lesson for you and others who plunder nests for selfish desires. A mother's instincts are always strong."
With a loud sigh, Blood-Seeker stooped down to her nest. She nosed each egg, inspecting them for cracks or blemishes, paying close attention to the one the ringwrist had handled the most. Each surface was smooth as they were the moment she laid them.
They were fine… and she didn't know how to feel about it.
Blood-Seeker stared at the ringwrist. Maybe she should have just let the goose take her eggs. But the moment the thought appeared, her lips peeled back. And let the leggy nest-raider spread rumors that should stay unsaid? No. It was best that she took the goose's life. Once more, Blood-Seeker faced a tough decision. The sun would rise soon enough, and she needed to return to her pack. Should she let her eggs freeze or be devoured by rodents? Or should she stay with them and be questioned by the pack?
The mourning swiftthief parents came to mind. They lost two eggs, and Blood-Seeker's eggs were just as small as swiftthief eggs… She might know how to keep everything hidden. Blood-Seeker sniffed each egg and turned away, slipping into the shadows again.
Pebble-Pouncer and Silent-Torrent were nestled outside their burrow, their three younglings nowhere to be seen. As Blood-Seeker approached, the pair looked up. Pebble-Pouncer bristled, bearing her much smaller teeth, but stayed rooted to her spot.
"I have an offer for you. I guarantee you my protection if you take it. Follow me if you wish to know." Without waiting, Blood-Seeker turned away, tracking back to her nest. Only one set of footsteps followed as Pebble-Pouncer's scent wafted through the air. She had left Silent-Torrent behind to watch over their children.
Soon enough, the two formels stood before a sloppy nest where three azure eggs with speckled shells were nestled. A slain ringwrist body lay some paces away, crimson blood leaking from its wounds, lacing the air with a sharp metallic scent. Pebble-Pouncer gazed upon the sight, confusion filling her goldenrod gaze.
"If you agree to brood my eggs, I will not tell a soul about you or your family."
"Why can't you take care of them yourself? You're an alpha and The Bloody Beldam. I would think someone with that title could take care of her eggs and offspring. Why do you need me?" She paused, understanding dawning as she looked at the eggs and back up at Blood-Seeker. "You're… you're too old to lay fertile eggs. They can't be yours. You-you stole another mother's eggs! Are you that desperate that—"
Blood-Seeker cut the bristling swiftthief off with a sharp look. "I have had five broods in my life. I had no want for more offspring. My mate, Silver-Singer, died several years ago, and our last clutch, two adolescent sons, still lives with me in my pack. However, these eggs…" she trailed off, eyes narrowing as she gazed upon the three tiny eggs, remembering the night she had spent with the nameless male. "These eggs contain offspring that are of my blood."
"How?" Pebble-Pouncer uttered, shaking her head. "I don't believe you. They are from someone else." Still shaking her head, she approached the nest, the much larger sickleclaw doing nothing to stop her as she leaned forward and sniffed the tiny eggs. Pebble-Pouncer stared, lost for words as her mind tried to connect the pieces as their strange scent wafted over her nares.
"Who do they belong to?"
"I told you, swiftthief. They are mine." Blood-Seeker sighed, her powerful shoulders drooping. "They are a curse of my stupidity and the magic of glowing crystals. Everything would be easier if I crushed them, but I cannot will myself to do so. Even after all these years, my instincts run as strong as ever. I curse them."
Pebble-Pouncer laid a paw on one egg, not much larger than the lone egg back at her nest. "And their father?" When Blood-Seeker didn't reply, she looked up at the other formel. "They don't smell like greatshadow eggs."
"It does not matter." Blood-Seeker turned away, her gaze drifting to the night sky. "No one must know of them, so I cannot care for them. I am sure you understand what rumors could accrue if even a whisper reaches my pack." She chuckled to herself. "However, I presume they would find the truth worse than any conjured false tale."
Pebble-Pouncer cocked her head in interest but stayed quiet, letting the alpha continue to speak.
"As the leader of the Pack of the Scarlet Feather, I must be there for my pack members. I cannot keep these eggs a secret if I wish to hatch them. My instincts are too strong. If I could push past them and do what was best…." Blood-Seeker's sickled claws flexed. "I am rambling, am I not? Old age must be getting the better of me."
Sighing, The Bloody Bedlam turned to Pebble-Pouncer, looking more like her elderly age than she ever did before. "You just lost two eggs, swiftthief. Adding three more to your nest will not take much effort. There is no need to become attached to them. Keep them warm and let nature take its course. If they do not hatch, they do not hatch. If they hatch… I will deal with it when the time comes."
"I…" Pebble-Pouncer stared at the eggs, then back up at Blood-Seeker. "Okay. I will help you. I would be lying if I said I wasn't curious about this predicament. It's an honor to care for The Bloody Bedlam's last clutch, no matter who their father is. As long as you promise to keep my family safe, I will keep your eggs safe and care for them as if they were my own."
Blood-Seeker nodded. The two formels picked up each of the three eggs and returned to the swiftthief burrow. They exchanged no words until they nestled the three azure eggs beside the paler blue swiftthief egg. The three younglings and Silent-Torrent watched in confusion, but no one questioned Pebble-Pouncer as she carefully rearranged the nest.
Eggs placed in the burrow, Blood-Seeker gave Pebble-Pouncer a slight nod and began her trek back to the nest. Questions spewed from the other swiftthieves, but Blood-Seeker trusted that the truth of her clutch's lineage would be safe with them.
Standing over her eggless nest, Blood-Seeker gave it a few kicks and scrapes of her feet, hiding the evidence of its existence. After a few days or a good rain, her scent would be untraceable.
She picked up the ringwrist carcass and walked through the Scarlet Grove back to her pack. The night was still a heavy veil across the sky, but it wouldn't be long before daylight began burning away the darkness.
The leader of the Pack of the Scarlet Feather stopped in the heart of her territory. Most of her pack were sleeping, and no one stirred as she stepped among the bodies until she found a pair of adolescent males, one osmium-feathered, the other hazel-feathered. Dropping the ringwrist carcass next to a pair of parents and their nest, she settled between the two adolescents for some much-needed sleep.
A voice whispered beside her. "Where have you been?"
Blood-Seeker cracked open a dark-amber eye to see her hazel-feathered son was speaking. His washed-tangerine eyes were narrowed in suspicion.
"What does it look like, Growling-Thunder?" Blood-Seeker ruffled her feathers and hunkered into herself. The osmium-feathered adolescent tiercel on her other side slept through the conversation.
"I can see that, Mom. But you were out longer for more than just a little hunt." He glanced at the carcass. "And those things don't come around that close to us unless there are eggs. At least, that's what Scattered-Dust said." Growling-Thunder leaned closer to his mother, sniffing her feathers. "And you smell different."
"It is egg-laying season, eyass. Of course, there are nest-raiding ringwrists about." Blood-Seeker rested her head on the ground. "I could not sleep. I walked through the grove to tire these weary bones. We will go out in the morning and search for other raiders. And do not worry about my smell. I am getting old." She resisted the urge to sigh as she watched a pair of dozing grey-feathered greatshadows, a freshly laid nest between them.
Growling-Thunder mumbled something under his breath and laid his head back on the ground.
Satisfied that the adolescent would stay quiet, Blood-Seeker glanced at Growling-Thunder's osmium-feathered clutchbrother. She and Silver-Singer had named him Storm-Bringer. He and Growling-Thunder had been Blood-Seeker's last clutch.
Until tonight.
It was odd thinking about her two sons. Neither matched their parents' colors — not the lovely shade of fresh-spilled blood that Blood-Seeker carried nor the glossy grey feathers that Silver-Singer had possessed. However, blue ran strong in Silver-Singer's family, and the two adolescent tiercels' wings and tail feathers were beginning to display the same silver sheen that their father had. The clutchbrothers also possessed their father's dark horizontal dorsum stripes. Even Growling-Thunder's hazel feathers had a source. The adolescent, excluding his stripes and light-pyrite eyes, and if he was some shades brighter, looked like Blood-Seeker's father, Hemlock-Biter.
Blood-Seeker closed her eyes, but her mind wasn't ready to sleep. Images of her family drifted through the darkness of her thoughts — mother, father, sisters, children. Blood-Seeker was scarlet, just like her mother, Bleeding-Rose, and her mother's mother. Blood-Seeker's first-hatched daughter also had the same scarlet feathers and would have become the next alpha, but that black-hearted singlecrest had to take Lily-Bleeder's life. And Blood-Seeker's other living children had left the pack to live their own lives. All she had left of her bloodline within her pack were her two sons and… the three eggs. She realized sooner than later that neither Growling-Thunder nor Storm-Bringer was interested in the stressful leadership role.
Another scarlet-feathered hatchling took shape in the elderly formel's mind, not quite like her firstborn, but with the same spitfire personality. As Blood-Seeker drifted into sleep, she smiled to herself. It would never happen, but she liked to think that another scarlet female of her direct lineage would be born to lead the pack again.
As the leader of the Pack of the Scarlet Feather fell asleep, a set of burnt-amber eyes blinked awake from the other side of the clearing. The owner of the eyes lifted her head, scenting the air. The dusky-russet-feathered formel huffed, gaze narrowing ever-so-slightly on the alpha. She laid her head back on the ground, but her eyes did not close. She would wait and watch, her talons hooked into the cracks of Blood-Seeker's beloved leadership.
