Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored!
The first thin sparks of morning fire rose over the thick, forested horizons, setting all alight with flaming rays of salmon and peach. Bia's broad wings twitched. Standing on moist soil by the heartland's lush, vast pool, she gazed at her reflection. The many plumes of the waterfalls filled the pool. But not her hollow, tired, crusty eyes. Watching and waiting for the sun to come would no longer bide her. The black of night was now metamorphosing into the red of day.
Hours vanished in one breath of decision.
She half-contemplated whom she might talk to. Something to drown the endless void of time. But a weight immediately sunk in her heart. The idea died in an instant. Bia sighed.
Da-no, no, no, don't think about it… She crossed her talons, biting her tongue down.
She redirected her thoughts with urgency. There was no one to talk to–that was surely why she was so… down. Roberto was off somewhere on council business. The same applied to Pop-Pop. Aunt Mimi was a late sleeper. It'd definitely be rude to wake her, fascinating as it was to hear about the granular differences between clays. The same applied to her sister and brother–and her mother would be mad she was awake and away from her.
A breeze blew. Leaves shifted in the distance. From afar, a jet of hot rising sunlight shot straight at her eye. Bia yelped, stepping back. Irritation pricked. She fought the urge to scream.
Fine, that's what I'll do. Go see the rainforest! Wouldn't hurt to learn more on my own.
The desire to explore, to go seek out something different and away from the heartland surged. Though, first, she had to temporarily smother her stomach's pangs.
Spotting a seam of clay nearby, Bia walked over. A fair amount of it gathered in her talons, then slithered into her stomach. It had a gritty, crunchy taste with a smooth texture. Not bad.
Huffing, Bia took off. She skimmed over the water, kicking a lily pad. She spiraled high into the open space. The light began the process of consuming the receding, sparkling inkiness. Slowly, slowly, slowly. She ignored her tribemates, either already awake and on duty, or waking up, whether near and far. Their weary or sympathetic glances also went uncared for. Not much time was left until her absence would be known to her mother.
Hastily, she flew her way to one of the few clear exits into the rainforest. Bia landed hard on the flower-infested outcrop. Moist growth tickled her feathers. She looked up, expecting nothing but the fresh morning and the welcoming green crown not too far high up.
However, no sooner than she clamored into place and set her focus, did one of the two posted warriors walk over to her. Their bulky form mixed with an impassive, disgruntled look.
"Bia, was it?" She flickered a glance to her partner–he nodded–then back over. Her heavy vocals matched her in every way. "No one unneeded is allowed in or out, per Eduardo's orders. Sorry."
Bia groaned–the one time she wanted to do something on her own, just be alone to think, and she couldn't. She cocked her eyes, and stood straight and stiff. "So? I won't go far."
"Child, do understand, please." the other sentry spoke, more gently than his partner, "We are possibly at war, and your father is… well, missing. This is for your safety, even if you don't like it. Eduardo, your Pop-Pop, would not call for this without good reason. I know you understand."
"Look here!" Bia pointed, trying to forget the words he'd just said, "Just because-"
"Hello, hello everyone! Lovely morning, isn't it?" The greeting of a new arrival boomed, collapsing on the tan-white rocks with a thud. "I saw a conundrum from afar, so I thought I'd help settle this little civil kerfuffle."
Bia moved aside a good distance, and, like the two sentries did, took stock of who it was–Crestle. Her guttural roar whispered. Just her luck. An old, stiff bird to ruin her day.
Crestle's larger-than-life aura nearly overshadowed her–he appeared slick and perfect, obtuse yet tall. "I believe I have a good idea of what is happening–the youth wishes to explore, yes?" The dark yellowness of his eyes glowed in the breaking sunrise. "You do, don't you?"
Bia nodded. "Indeed I do, Senhor Crestle."
"I see not the problem here." He let out a hearty chuff, patting her back, inadvertently propelling her forward, and hardly so, with his strength and not noticing. Bia stumbled but pulled herself together. A pointed, charismatic face turned to his guarding tribemates. "She's a smart young lady. Surely Eduardo would not want to hear of his kin being told they cannot handle themselves, hm?"
The female sentry swallowed; a claw angled awkwardly in response. "Well, uh…" Her partner shot her an equally shaky expression. "I… do suppose an exception can be made." She hardened her eyes, if not by much, towards Bia. "If she doesn't go far, of course."
"Lovely, that's all settled, then. Lovely day to all, I have interesting council business later today!" And at that, he thundered away, as if a bee in a hurricane.
Bia, not wishing to blow her flabbergasting luck, quickly scampered past the warriors. Light wings set alight into the rainforest.
She checked behind her, for a cursory moment of curiosity; the male Spix nodded at his companion and launched away from his post. That was not interesting, nor worth her attention.
Adjusting her wings and shoulders, she looked back. The shimmering rays necessitated a blink, but otherwise, she was perfectly alright.
Clenching her beak, she flapped further along. It was nothing but her and nature. What her mom had wanted when they'd left so many weeks ago.
So, Bia swallowed the bile that did not exist, and reset her sights on the surrounding rainforest. With an entrancing, angry hum, she cleared her mind.
The green morphed into a hypnotizing haze.
She forgot about everything else in a snap.
It's… beautiful, so tempting… so amazing.
A weaving of dark and less dark viridescent were slowly lit by the dawning rays. Bia thrust herself forward and farther. Whooshing through, past a twisting branch, a light pop sparked in her head. The sounds of life exploded. She opened her mind to hearken upon them.
The musical harmony of the Amazon instantly linked to her soul. Calls and hoots and buzzing and whooshes galore were like music to her ears. The erratic movement of herself contributed. She dove, letting out a caw of joy.
The distance between her and home grew fuzzy. To vaguely make up for it, she turned around, still at full speed. Even so, she did not put much thought into it. The intoxicating iridescence of the rainforest sparked something worth ignoring all else for.
She slashed by trunks. By a margin, she prudently missed a slather of butterflies. Never would she even lie a claw upon one. This was followed by her clawing her through a dense thicket of dangling vine. Each act of violence brought a grating satisfaction.
Whiffs of blooming life fueled her thrumming veins. Through the thick and thin of the trees, she swirled and arced, swerving to and fro. Bia burst through a tangle of vines. A stuttered shriek of seemed delight burst. Nothing but passing insects bothered.
On and on, Bia flew. The heartland moved closer and farther away again and again at her whim. Though she repeated the same sights to follow the sentry's accord, she spotted new details each time. Time and time again, the gifts of the rainforest kept giving.
The next obstacle came as it pleased. Bia wrapped around the sharp corner. However, she tugged too hard. Her wing now ached a bit. Consequently, she opened her senses again. She veered under a branch. The shadows of the leaves briefly cooled her.
Turning her head to the sky, the sun was now peeking at the roots of the trees. The vivid circle of yellow-white encompassed its permanent and searing path upward. Bia blinked, causing a flash of dark to hit her vision. It did not last long, nor impede her meandering flight.
But it did remind.
Her content, blissful state of mind crashed. With sharp, sneering breath, Bia literally screeched to a slamming halt on a nearby branch. Throat and chest expelled her wracking thoughts. The fragile perch of living wood cracked under her resting grip.
Her mind roared and churned with rawness.
"Why?!"
The question uttered to no one but the isolating rainforest.
The glint of the still growing sunlight suddenly felt mocking, as if promising an answer she knew no one had nor could she find.
"Why, Dad, why…"
A softer, yet just as painful, whimper left Bia. The illusion of the rainforest's grandeur and facade split into a million shards, as numerous as the rays of light dawning and smiling upon her.
How is the world so cruel, why is it so cruel… I thought… I thought… I thought…
Bia had been told by her parents of their greatest escape and how they found love in each other. The violence and pain they'd been through were always so abstract compared to the comfortable life they lived.
Now it was all too real.
An endless collection of mesmerizing memories went supernova. She found herself scrutinizing the details of her father's movements, his variety of expressions, his voice, his bright eyes, his adoration for her mother, and vice versa.
A cold, grim dread settled. Bia couldn't ignore it, and she tried to fight it.
Smart as she knew she was, Bia couldn't fathom the why or how of anything lately. War? What was it, truly? She realized she did not know. Leaves rustled nearby as the sky whistled above. Bia's eyes shrunk, and she became a husk of herself, by herself.
As if reflecting her inner fears, the Amazon, all around here, seemed to grow dark and close in the beat of her tiny heart. Bia nervously turned around, eyes sweeping the lush, threatening life. Its hot breath closed in on her. The eye of the world turned on her. She felt watched and could not tell from where. In her mind, she knew it to be a trick of emotion. But her gizzard refused to settle. Instincts went haywire–she clutched her wings to her face.
Calm down! Calm down! It's just paranoia at the fact your father could be dead! Dead! Isn't that a jolly joy? You don't say!
It'd be alright. There was no proof of that!
It'd be okay. She still had her mother in the worst case scenario!
It'd–
"Bia!"
A familiar, friendly sound yelled nearby.
"Bia, where are you? They said you were around here."
Roberto's soft, loving voice reached her.
A sliver of comfort slipped into the new pit entrenching itself from wing tip to wing tip, vast and bottomless, an abyss of careening blackness.
She screwed her head around to locate where he was going from. As she did, a rattling sound occurred, just beyond sight. Curious, Bia turned her head in the direction opposite to Roberto. Then a cluster of vines to the right above her shattered outward. Fear materialized in a flash. Red and green coalesced into an escaping blur. A slew of slashed, wet vegetation debris lightly smacked her side. The rush of retreating, hurried wings carried in the accompanying gust.
Yet, before Bia might even dare utter a cry of protest, a hard and black object shot straight into her face–and she lost every ounce of grip.
Down she plummeted. Tongue too shocked to yell for her life. And wings too fast to catch lift and fly. Bia choked on the air. Never before had such force hit her.
The cyan of the sky and the color of the jungle twisted together. The world was a mess, an incoherent babble of sights and sounds, as the thought of death bubbled to the forefront.
Bia's eyes widened. Her beak gaped open. As it hit her, a pair of claws snatched her midair. Tumultuous strength ripped upwards, and her legs felt as if torn apart.
In one fell swoop, her rescuer scooped her higher than shot to the ground in a single flush of action. Soft soil touched her claws–buried roots poked, too, their curves sensationalized.
Bia realized she could breathe. So she did.
Instinct told her to look, so started clicking her eyes around.
Then she saw it–a pure shriek erupted from Bia. Then it died to a hoarse weeping. A tempest, a storm, brewed in her bottomless pit, burgeoning out. She stepped back, as if they could bring her away from the horror, as if that would undo the reality of the sight before her.
A spasm of vomit elicited, a gag stretched her gullet. Nothing came up. Nevertheless, the visceral chain reaction hit as if she would've hit the ground. There were no words for the sight–and no words for what it meant.
She looked at feather-curled Spix beside her. His eyes were as dark as hers. He brought her close and tense, his wing leaving no room for even a squeeze. Roberto nodded in solemn affirmation. And somehow made the embrace tighter.
She recognized the black object for what it was–the severed foot of a Spix macaw, digits splayed out, the stump bloodied and dried, cut so cleanly, its scaly surface glistening, mushed into the ground from impact–and so did Roberto.
It was that of her father.
Bia fell into Roberto.
A salty sea wept from her. Roberto's firm, boulder-like embrace withstood her ugly, embarrassing, weeping, quaking self. He hushed to Bia, whispering to not think anything less of herself.
A strange inkling of comfort and familiarity echoed in the suddenly broken and terrible world she lived in. Roberto's words were a drop of invoking and fiery oil, rising to burn bright and above the endless black rains. It was similar, all too similar, to that of her father.
But that was no longer possible.
There was little choice in the matter.
So Bia accepted what was right in front of her–it'd never be the same, but it was close enough.
The crying continued, ignorant of the uncaring rainforest.