Carried away by the moonlight's shadow, a pure crimson avian slipped softly through a silent symphony of swift, slick currents. Though, comparatively, the Amazon itself quietly roared with the buzzing of insects, flashing eyes of many colors, the mysterious rustling of leaves, howls of predators, and other endless creativity of the jungle's balance of harmony and hostility. Darkened masses floated far above, threatening to release a cascade of aquatic terror at a moment's notice. Brilliant rays shone through the crown and radiated upon the flapping red feathers. Slowly but surely, his destination on the other side of the grove, the Spix macaw side, came closer and closer.
This had better be worth my time, he thought with annoyance.
This was costing him extra, both for his guards to lie and for his spouse to enjoy a lavish night in the Glowing Cave of Theatrics.
I lose sleep constantly to gimmicks and tricks. Tick me off, and the results are not pretty!
The sounds of the jungle lightened as he reached the final stretch of his midnight flight. Across from the widest stream, near the southernmost tip of the entire territory the two tribes lie claim to, the parrot navigated. Beyond these lands were trees either useless to them or defended by other animals and quieter avian clans. A small, hidden enclave of dead trees came into view, right where the directions relayed to him indicated. In the dim crescent moon darkness, the swatching patches were practically invisible, forcing him to dramatically slow down before officially entering.
This ancient section of wooden death was remarkably well hidden. It was unknown to even the scarlet macaw tribe, despite having lived here far longer. Darting his eyes to and fro, he spotted a faint glow of dark green moss from a tree's hollow. It was approximately near the center of the thickest thickets. It was clever to defend the owner's hiding hole. Furthermore, it also explained a one-off trade for some moss from their cave not too long ago. He now knew for sure who it was; hiding the moss away was also easy–another tactical defense.
Weaving between the wooden obstacles required a surprisingly exhaustive amount of talon work and short glides. With one last glide, he landed with a cushy impact upon the stiff and brittle bark, with small amounts flaking off. A musty stench was present, but not overpowering. Stepping inside the hollow itself revealed a cavernous amount of room, in contrast to what an outside look made him think. The bits of glowing moss he had seen from a distance glowed pleasantly around the entrance, but nowhere else. It left much to imagine to most–however, his trained mind never succumbed to petty fears.
Alright, let's get this over with.
With a quick neck crack and a stretch of his wings, he took a deep breath.
"This better not be a prank," he called out, taking a few steps more. "I'm losing sleep on this, and if you're some snotty-beaked Spix who-"
Without warning, a flurry of feathers erupted behind him, forcing the visitor to the hard surface of the hollow. A set of talons directed his gaze onto the floor. The attacker's position utilized their body weight to its fullest, leaving little room for a counter struggle. Major panic attempted to flood his neurons. Years of training shut that valve off in an instant, letting his composure be maintained and instincts honed. A few tense seconds passed.
"Password." The authoritative, almost-menacing voice gave a definite identification to the assailant.
"When Eduardo hears of this-" the scarlet macaw began. A light slam of his face to the floor cut him off.
"He won't. Password," they repeated, "Or it's scarlet liquid staining your red feathers, per a very specific clause of our treaty."
The pinned bird sighed. "Duava, Roberto, it's duava."
"Procedure is important in secret meetings, Felipe."
Wordlessly, Roberto retreated from his position atop the tribe leader, who grumbled and brushed himself off. The Spix spent that moment checking his curling head feathers, meticulously, resetting them. Applying his tongue to his wing fold, followed by pressing the wet feathers together over them, did the trick. Felipe sighed once more as he settled himself into a comfortable position in a spot of thick moss. Once Roberto finished his grooming, he also found an acceptable spot. This was going to be a long night for Felipe, and it was all Roberto's fault.
"Ready?" Roberto checked, a tone much lighter and truer to himself than it had been moments ago.
Felipe half-nodded. "Ready for you to stop caring for your pristine appearance."
"It is important to take care of oneself, for oneself, and for the ladies," the offended Spix fired back.
"It won't be as important if your time spent tidying winds you a snake snack."
"Time not following treaty procedure renders your chosen heir the new leader."
Felipe rolled his eyes. "Bylaws, technically. And must you macaws always be so secretive and dead serious?"
"Not until we can share territory." Roberto's address of grievance stung with indicative venom.
"Boring," Felipe mimed a yawn. "You were beggars then, and are beggars now. Accept what little mercy ye receive in life. Now get on with it, or I leave this meeting, possibly by the same mercy."
Roberto's eyes seemed to outshine the moss in their fury alone. "Anyway, we shall move on to the subject matter."
"What problems do you have now on your strip we have to handle for you?" Felipe asked. "Is Eduardo too old anymore to do this himself? And why here? Should have kept a valuable hiding spot to yourselves."
"Myself, actually." Roberto corrected.
"Wait, you haven't shared this location with your tribe?"
Well, that's unexpected. Spixes are usually serving to their community, not themselves. One of their many exploitable weaknesses.
"Only you now know, if only you unsealed and burnt the message," Roberto answered with light suspicion.
"By my honor, I swear to it."
On the other talon, any good tribe knows its vulnerabilities. Pride is high amongst ours.
"Good. And this 'inconvenience'," Roberto said with heavy emphasis, "Is rather one only I may perceive, hence me here. Officially, this meeting never happened, even on our private records."
"Kept in your rocky outcrops."
Felipe casually gave off a known secret whilst absorbing the incoming information to process and think through it. Roberto's calculating gaze felt piercing to Felipe.
"And yours in your multipurpose cavern, just as well."
"So," Felipe switched back to the topic, "What is this 'problem' and its relation to scarlet macaw internal security?"
As always, these scants can rely on their strength to protect their side of the grove. Ain't our problem if something kills them.
"It's the father that found us recently," Roberto conveyed with clarity.
Felipe snickered. This was too good to be true. Not only was this high-ranking Spix going behind his leader's back, but it was over his glaring jealousy for his childhood friend's soulmate. Blu was in no way whatsoever a problem to the scarlet macaws. If Blu was a problem, they could give him a satisfying thrashing if and when the human-raised freak crosses the border. Roberto could deny it all he wanted. As good-natured as he pretended to be, Felipe knew he had his hidden darkness; all creatures had one. Perhaps only now was there a reason for the poison to seep.
Time to charge him up!
"Oh, you mean the bumbling moron?" Felipe openly mocked, "Who's an obvious failure to the pretty rapariga you like?"
That ought to add the mango to the fruit delight.
And for the second time that night, Felipe found himself being almost strangled on the hollow's floor. Entertainment as intent completely took over as the root cause, instead of procedural malfunction. The main difference was that Felipe could now see Roberto's eyes. They fumed in fathomable fury. Additionally, the Spix's claws pressed down at the base of Felipe's neck. As always, Felipe held firm and uncaring, despite technically being in a position where he could easily be killed.
Worth it, he thought, despite the strain on his torso.
"I will never understand," Roberto growled, whilst readjusting his grip on Felipe's talons, "How your father, kind to our tribe, raised such a piranha-rot of a son like you!"
"Hey, I'm still following his deathbed wish to let you chumps scrounge around in our grove," Felipe defended himself.
"You are a disgrace." The Spix's voice was a cold tone.
Felipe simply chuckled some. "I'll never understand how he could take in a second-rate tribe like yours, too weak to handle humans! And now you're complaining to me about how you can't handle some loser of your kind from the city."
Roberto nicked the base of the scarlet macaw's neck, drawing a tiny amount of blood.
"You will never understand our struggles, our pain, as your father did. Oh, how I wish I could make you understand."
"Killing me won't achieve anything," Felipe shot back, ignoring the stinging cut. "Nor will further injury be an option. A scuffle wouldn't look for your reputation."
"Which is why you're staying put until our conversation ends. Lest you mock me, I can find more uncomfortable ways to talk to you." Roberto leered, shifting weight onto Felipe's upper chest momentarily.
Felipe wheezed in a light glee. "Gauche would otherwise be unexpected from you, of course."
"I reserve myself in many ways," Roberto replied. "Now either shut up or listen to me already!"
Felipe let out a yawn. Well, looks like that bit of fun is over. Time to hear whatever panther waste he's cooking up out of concern for his dearest Jewel.
"So, you were complaining about your jealousy of your childhood crush's partner, hm?" Felipe more than called Roberto out. "Or are you in denial?"
Roberto heavily pressed the side of Felipe's face into the decaying wood. The moon's light shone from a patch of sky, momentarily unobscured by clouds.
"Unlike you, Felipe, I respect others and their relationships. I may have had feelings long ago," Roberto monologued, "I understand reality, and move on. I am joyful she is simply alive, another fact your tribe doesn't appreciate."
The sky illuminated Felipe's dripping injury.
Oh, I have the perfect response to that one!
"Doesn't mean you wouldn't swoon her if the chance came! Three weeks in, already you're purely smitten." Felipe spat out without regard for a consequence–completely ignoring Roberto's lecture.
"Shut up and listen!" Roberto shouted in pure anger, slamming Felipe's head into the floor.
The pain shot into Felipe's entire body, given Roberto was still atop him. It felt like being hit with a rock to the face, which seemed like it happened to him more than it usually should for most. Wings wracking in weary aching did not help. Still, he had to hand it to Roberto for his top-notch and unbreakable grip on him. It'd take him at least a week to recover from tonight. Two weeks, if he kept on toying with the pathetic excuse of a second in command. Best to wrap it up and carry out a facade of acquiescence of compliance, acknowledgment, and assessment of this supposed security threat to his tribe.
Felipe took a set of ten deep breaths to cool the figurative atmosphere in the hollow. He cocked his head, as best as he could, and let his tiredness form a dull expression.
"So, give me a chance to listen, then."
Roberto also took a few deep breaths, in a struggle to cool his boiling blood flow. Shoulders heaving, he spoke about what they should've discussed by now.
"Our most distant scouts-"
"Yada yada, difficult, dangerous, the honorable Yavi and Junshua," Felipe cut in. "We both know them!"
"You're the one naming them in the first place!" Roberto muttered in frustration.
The pinned, bored tribe leader let out a grunt. "You Spix's would bring out useless information either way."
He felt himself rock in a minor, violent shake. Roberto has the guts to threaten me again. He's plain lucky I don't tell Eduardo. He is working himself to my advantage. I wonder how much of Roberto's food supplies I could get from him not to tell…
"As I was saying," Roberto continued. "They've spotted approaching human activity, loggers and all. I find it very odd that this follows in the wake of Blu's arrival."
"So, send out my scouts and work out these logger's directions?" Felipe guessed.
"Precisely." Roberto nodded.
Felipe considered what Roberto's endgame here might be. "Eduardo wouldn't send you to relay basic stuff like that in a secret meeting. What's the rookie Spix have to do with any of it beyond coincidence?"
"I am not sure if it's not a coincidence," Roberto put bluntly. "Eduardo wouldn't hear a shred of it, which is why I need your resources. I am not confident there is no risk posed by his presence, even though it is most likely fate rubbing it at us for a second time."
"That's shockingly logical and devious," Felipe admitted. "For a Spix Macaw. So, yes, you have our help, in surveilling him as best we can."
"To make sure he doesn't hurt himself either," Roberto added.
Felipe rounded it out. "A fair deal."
"Nor reveal this location to others?" Roberto unpressed, lightening his grip on Felipe.
"By my honor-able more than you are," the leader snarkily said, sneaking in an acceptably mocking pun.
And with that, Roberto backed off of Felipe, though with a slight shove. Both took stances on opposite ends of the hollow entrance to breathe fresh air. It'd help alleviate their stress, cool off their heightened senses, and provide much-required distance. The negotiations had been aggressive. A hot breeze began to waft over them after a journey passing through the dead trees. Tensions fell alongside their heart rates. Still, an unease remained. An unease that Felipe internally smirked for.
He'd come expecting a joke or a mysterious minor test of tribe relations. Never until the Amazon burned down would he have thought Roberto would lose his cool in front of him. Granted, it was a private meeting, and it'd been fun to provoke him. Nonetheless, the degree to which the Spix burst out was indeed an amusing surprise. He would enjoy having Roberto as a toy for a bit. His tribe was boring sometimes. Figuring out how to best squeeze Roberto for said jubilance would not take long. Alas, good things took time.
Felipe waddled to the edge of the entrance, now the exit, and perched to silently praise the wind.
Today is going to suck thanks to Roberto ruining my sleep… yet the machinations of his predicament will keep me humored.
"Good night, Roberto," the soon-to-be-gone bird uttered without emotion.
"Sleep well, Felipe," the blue avian smirked beneath a feigned mask of serenity.
Farewells said, Felipe boosted himself out of the hollow and into the gentle night. A long flight home presented itself to his weary mind and battered body, enticing a groan of complacency. His neck's nick stung less and bled no more. It would be the priority upon arrival to his welcome nest. Immediate sleep afterward, no more, no less. The crescent moon lit the way now that the clouds had decided to stop brooding and move on from their sulking. Keeping his eyelids open drained enormous energy. Roberto's beatdown had been draining enough. All this over the Spix's obvious crush.
Still, this makes everything all the more interesting, Felipe noted, flapping around a girthy branch on his way out of the deadwood. I've finally found a viable weakness in the Spix macaw tribe. I promised my father to let them stay, but there has to be a way to wedge leverage against them from amongst themselves.
This new Spix named Blu came to mind. Yes! There is our beautiful ticket toward their eviction. Surveilling from our side will help with that. He might claim to do it for Blu's safety, but I reckon it's subconsciously a way to keep an eye on his competition. It'll require patience, but I'm sure the fool is guaranteed to violate the charter my father set forth. Rereading that fat stack will be worth it. Haven't done that in years.
So engrossed in his thoughts was Felipe, he almost missed the odd sight of a white cockatoo, an anteater, and a pink-and-black poison frog sleeping in a tree top together. This snapped Felipe's attention after a frozen second of being flabbergasted. Swerving around a tree he almost hit, Felipe pivoted his trajectory. The green and yellow suit of the cockatoo further impounded his interest. Quite an eventful evening, suddenly.
Whoever this third party is, they might help swing events in my favor yet. Roberto's blatant jealousy, no matter how go-happy attitude, and obviously eroding the struggle to keep Jewel a mere friend, is certainly exploitable. He isn't there yet, but I may be able to tug him there. Now let's find out who this sucker is.
Felipe neared the white cockatoo. Here goes Operation Mangopastim.