For the Birds

[Noonahootin]

The morning bore a bitter air that stung the nose and eyes of the three beasts who shuffled out of the cave, their fellow survivors of the lost caravan expedition peering out from the darkness behind them. The once warm fire had since burnt away to glowing embers amidst a hot pile of coals, and so when the sun's grey light hit their eyes, the ferret, toad, and owl all blinked hastily, barely adjusting to the bright glare off the mountain snow.

?Hrph! Right! Watch your steps, laddies, and if you feel the earth begin to move...? Noonahootin began, but then trailed off. Frankly, he had no idea what would happen if the mountain decided to shake and throw the earth-walkers down once more; he wouldn't be able to fly hastily after any beast and snatch them from the air, what with his wing being torn up from the previous day.

?Kiss yer tail good-bye, aye!? Cookie offered helpfully while he crawled over a cracked and snow-covered boulder.

?Well, I suppose,? Noonahootin shrugged, rolling his shoulders, trying to see just how crippled his wing truly was that morning. He winced uncomfortably, sucking in a sharp breath and then clucking his tongue in disapproval. ?I was going to ask you to try not to scream. Don't want to worry the others!?

?But never mind ourselves,? Greenfleck murmured languidly, hopping out of the cold snow and causing a great spray of white flakes to explode from where his powerful hind legs had kicked off the ground. The owl held up his wings to block the snow from hitting him, frowning disapprovingly at the swamp creature.

?Remember, lads, we're here for food, clothes, medical supplies, wood...and keep a sharp eye out for anyone who might be left alive,? Noonahootin stated solemnly.

As the three began to walk along a steep makeshift path, following the eight sets of shallow prints left from the night before, Noonahootin lifted each foot as high as he could, and only set his talons down long enough to push off and take his next step. The owl had since rediscovered just how much he detested walking, a fact that was only reinforced by his broken talon stiff inside its sling. Courtesy of Gashrock's magic mending skills and her bright idea to use a strip of the Yew scout's uniform blue poncho to bind his talon, Noonahootin's toe would heal, but having lost the flexibility in one of his feet made working his way through the deep and heavy snow very frustrating. Additionally, the mountain pass' well-established destructive abilities were looming in the back of his mind, making Noonahootin visibly nervous. His round head was constantly swiveling up, down, and side to side to ensure he did not miss a single thing happening around him.

Circling the sky near where the caravan had fallen were the silhouettes of black birds flying, their loud squawks and caws echoing amongst the rocky shield of the mountain.

?Here comes trouble...? Greenfleck suddenly declared, stalling mid-hop and causing Noonahootin and Cookie to raise their heads. The owl scowled very deeply and let a deep, rumbling grumble from his chest. He then clacked his beak together sharply several times.

?Ruddy crows.?

All three beasts stood solemnly for a moment at the edge of a sharp incline, considering the craggy scar left on the mountain side. Beneath them, the ruins of the mountain rested in piles of broken and snapped trees, crumbling rocks, and close-knit parties of oily black crows cackling amongst themselves.

?Are they...? Greenfleck's lips pulled back in momentary disgust.

?Aye,? Cookie grunted gravely, resting a paw upon the knife tucked into his belt. ?Eatin' breakfast.

?Fiends!? Noonahootin barked, heaving a breath in and then squealing out a keening wail that sounded more akin to one of Nyika's screams than to the cry of an owl. He spread his wings and, momentarily forgetting his pain in his anger, leapt from the rocky ledge, gliding down the mountain and landing amongst the murder of crows.

?BACK! GET BACK, I SAY!? Noonahootin boomed, clacking his beak loudly and threatening the crows with the talons upon his good foot, splaying the wickedly curved claws wide to show the other birds just how sharp he kept them. The crows leaped back from their meal with their wings open, squawking and prancing from foot to foot in rage. Their angry eyes flashed and they clacked their own beaks, but none dared move toward the corpse again.

?CWAH! CWAH! Wait up a tic, CWAH!? one of the crows, marginally larger than the rest, cawed defensively, shuffling forward and back again as though he couldn't make up his mind which direction he wanted to go. ?Finders keepers! It's the LAR of de woods! CWAH! You know dis, birdie gent!?

?DON'T YO-HOO 'LAW OF THE WOODS' ME, CROW! These ones are from Yew, and no scavenger will be disrespecting them so!? Captain Noonahootin hissed, leaning far forward so than his chest practically touched the ground. The owl flared his wings upon his back, splaying each of his tail feathers into a large fan, and lifted every feather upon his body. Easily outclassing the crows for sizable appearances, the scout hopped forward, reaching out with his talons.

?'E's a cripple!? one the smaller birds at the front of the flock crowed, and the black birds all began laughing, pointing wings at the old owl as though he suddenly had become a joke. Screeching, Noonahootin charged forward, limping obviously but still f  ast enough to catch the small crow who mocked him, the screaming bird's friends climbing over each other in order to get away from the larger, more dangerous bird.

The crow's eyes were wide with fear, and then suddenly Noonahootin was knocked off the filthy little cretin by two, then three more of the wretches' brethren beating at the owl with their heavy wings. A fourth crow joined in, and as hard as Noonahootin swung his good wing, bucked, and kicked, he could not free himself from the mob attacking him. One of the damnable crows had discovered the wound upon his shoulder and dug their beak in, pecking furiously at the broken flesh and eliciting an alarmed squeal from the Yew guard.

?CRAA-CRAA! Dere's more! 'E brought a friend! A ferret friend! 'N a froggy! CWAH!?

The crows took off in a flutter of wing beats and sharp caws, black feathers floating loftily down from where they were lost in mid retreat.

?Cowards! Get back here!? Cookie was shouting, chasing the largest crow down and delivering a swift kick to the craggy bird's tail feathers as the crow tried to take off. The bird tripped over his own feet trying to escape, beating his wings and cawing crossly until he finally managed to take to the air.

?Ah...you...ah, alright, cap'n?? Cookie asked as he approached Noonahootin, rubbing the back of his neck. The owl was on his back, legs in the air as he tried to kick himself onto his belly. At last managing to stand, Noonahootin brushed himself off, spitting curses at the crows who had flocked just a short distance down the mountain.

?HRPH! Bastards, the lot of them! How dare they?! The Yew Guard keep this forest safe for them and this is how the repay us?!? Angrily, the owl flung his wing in the direction of the hare that the crows had been eating. The poor thing's eyes had been pecked clean out of his skull, leaving empty, bloody sockets to stare eternally at the sky. The hare had also been ripped apart from the wound in his stomach, and Noonahootin sighed softly as he tugged the lodged sword out.

?That was Guardsbeast Hoffington. He was a good lad.? Noonahootin inspected the blade, bent in the middle from its fall down the mountain. It must have gotten stuck and curved around Hoffington's ribs. ?Not terribly skilled with this, but enthusiastic. He will be missed. His sword will be missed.?

The owl tossed the sword away, sadly lowering his head as he realized just how many condolence notes would have to be delivered upon his return to Yew.

?Ah, well, least he ain't sufferin' no more,? Cookie offered helpfully, toeing at the sword before deciding it was useless to him.

?You should not have gone after those crows,? Greenfleck, silent until then, suddenly reprimanded the owl scout. ?Now your wing is worse than it was before, and they know you're hurt.?

?Indeed,? Noonahootin simply said. ?Not as...not as young as I used to be. Well, if I had my sons or my daughters here, those fiends wouldn't have stood a chance. We could have taken the whole murder, the lot of them! HA-haha, oh yes indeed.?

As the owl began to strut by his comrades and continue to pick his way down the mountain, Greenfleck looked off to the side, suddenly very interested in something only he had spotted. The toad?s eyes narrowed.

?You're a father, then?? Cookie asked, following after the owl. ?Didn't know owls, ah, kept families.?

?Yes, a father of four! My eldest son, Prosecutes, he was a warrior! Never had there been a faster flier, not in the entire world! He even outgrew his mother, haha! Smart lad, strong lad. He would have taken on anyone if they challenged the way of the Yew Guard! My eldest daughter, Venia, she too was a warrior. Keen scrapper she was,? Noonahootin said fondly, glowing as he spoke about his children. ?Prosecutes even gave his life for the Yew Guard!?

?He died? Pros..Pros-ick-yoot-ees?? Cookie asked, stumbling over the name but bravely venturing forth.

?Yes,? Noonahootin said, his chest puffing up in immense pride as he spoke. ?Died in battle! Glorious, really! Took a spear right through his chest. Slew four more before drawing his last. I can only hope to go that way, in the midst of a fierce assault, engaging the enemy, blood boiling, spirits alight! Aaah, yes,? the owl sighed happily. ?Better than rotting away from age.?

?Well, I don't know about that.? Cookie said, shrugging. ?A lot to be said for havin' a clean casket. It's all glory an' guts for you, but it's beasts like me an' Gashy who end up scrapin' your hide off the ground days later, if not crows an' their lot desecratin' things.?

The two had reached the bottom of the mountain, where the destruction was most prevalent. Bodies were strewn about, some crushed under trees or boulders, others lying broken in the snow. The only prints were those of the crows, and the two beasts looked on in concealed disgust at each corpse.

?See what I'm saying? They always go fer the eyes first,? Cookie muttered unhappily, shaking his head and clucking his teeth.

?Indeed. It is the easiest part to get to,? Noonahootin confirmed, turning his head away and pretending to look for supplies. Instead, he found something missing.

?Where did Greenfleck go?? Noonahootin sighed, his tone immensely annoyed. Cookie looked around,   checking behind a smashed cart, and shrugged when the toad wasn't found.

Above them, back at the ledge where they had been chased from, the crows had grown louder, and now their noise was almost deafening. The black birds were cackling and screeching as they tore something apart, and a bloody, light blue Yew jacket was tossed aside. The coat landed wetly in front of Noonahootin and Cookie.

They stared at the jacket for a full minute before each of their heads turned slowly towards each other. Cookie swallowed. Noonahootin winced.

?You don't think-?

?I...he could be anywhere.?

?Aye. But just in case...? Cookie took a deep breath in and screamed out the toad's name, waiting a moment before calling for the missing member of their party again.

They sat in silence, waiting with baited breath. Nothing.

?Ahh,? Cookie said, again rubbing at the back of his neck. ?I said it right, didn't I? Fleck, I said. Definitely said Fleck that time.?

?Keep moving,? Noonahootin grunted, frowning. ?Something isn't right...?

The owl was looking over the grisly sight of where mostly everyone and everything had crashed down and rested. The road's ruins were spattered with blood in some places, and bodies had been dragged in every direction from the crows, the red paths creating flowery patterns in the snow.

?What do you see?? Noonahootin asked quietly, and Cookie shrugged, looking around the destruction. The owl strode forward, picking at branches and tossing them to the side to see who had been buried beneath.

?I don't remember every beast bein' nekked,? Cookie observed, peering down at a dormouse on its belly, eyeless face twisted in horror. ?Save those rats I got to. Didn't have time to loot anyone else after that.?

?No, nor do I remember any Yew guard being unarmed,? Noonahootin said contemplatively, using his talons to delicately turn the face of a squirrel with a mean looking scar across one empty socket. ?This was Lieutenant Ruffbrush. He was rather well known for carrying eight daggers, four on each side.?

?Ain't a blade to be seen, or any trousers for that matter,? the ferret sniggered, but turned away sheepishly at Noonahootin's glare and began to poke at a dead shrew.?

?Clothes gone, weapons gone...I bet there isn't a crumb to be found,? the owl clucked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

?Ain't the crows that robbed 'em all. Birds ain't built for coats an' socks. Can't carry a sword, neither.? Cookie sidled up beside Noonahootin as the scout began climbing up a rock not far from a stick that had been plunged into the ground.

?Ah, careful were you stand, Captain. Poko's parents are right there. Least they ought to...?

?Hm?? Noonahootin looked down from atop the boulder, noticing the marker upon the ground's lumpy surface. ?Oh, yes. Sorry.?

From his perch, Noonahootin looked around without ever turning his body, amber eyes searching the wreck sight for any sign of movement. The valley was still aside from the crows on the ledge, and nothing could be heard above the cawing caterwaul. Each corpse the owl could see was stripped clean of its clothes, jewellery, and there were no weapons to be seen. Below, Cookie was investigating the bodies up close, making his way from one to the next.

?There are more than there were last night,? the owl said, and Cookie nodded.

?Some of 'em have been dug up.?

?AHAH!? the owl hooted and hopped from the rock, stumbling a little upon his sore foot. ?Those damnable moles! I bet they, too, sought to seize some profit from this tragedy! They've been digging up corpses and looting everything they can find!?

?I dunno... moles dig through dirt, underground an' all. Some of these tunnels are right through snow. Reminds me of how stoats go about, farther north. Or weasels.?

?But not ferrets?? Noonahootin smugly teased, cocking a brow. Cookie scowled, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

?Ever see a ferret tunnelin'? We ain't the most gracious of creatures. No way ferrets would've done all this without knockin' half the place down after themselves. Besides, weren't enough of us on the caravan,? the champagne ferret said defensively. ?But there's a tribe of stoats in the woods around here, you know of 'em??

?Indeed. They call themselves the 'Hollow Bone Gang',? Noonahootin confirmed. "Ill-bred pack of half-wits."

?Right. They've probably been muckin' about down here, diggin' in the snow for goodies they couldn't get to on top.?

?The moles have been in the area; I have seen them myself. You really believe stoats did all this...this pillaging?? Nonahootina asked sceptically. Cookie merely shrugged, turning around.

?Vermin is vermin, woodlanders ain't like that from what I seen. Anyway, no point in freezin' down here forever,? Cookie said, strolling back up the path he had come down on. ?Maybe them crows know a thing or two about who robbed the place.?

Noonahootin grumbled bitterly, a vile taste rising in his throat as he thought about having to ask the crows for any kind of assistance. The oily blighters would probably lie their beaks off anyways, and so the owl considered it a complete waste of time. However, Cookie was already half way back up to the ledge where the crows were feasting on Hoffington, and so Noonahootin gingerly began scaling the snowy rocks.

By the time he reached Cookie, the crows had already taken off at the sight of the ferret and he was inspecting a nearby cart. A few boards had been pried off, and the ferret casually stuck his head into the hole in the wagon?s side, his tail swishing back and forth as he rummaged about in the darkness. Noonahootin occupied himself by pushing Hoffington's body over, the poor hare tearing at the hips with the sickening noise of ripping flesh and cracking bones. Flinching, the owl took a step back, staring at the eyeless corpse of the young buck who had previously been under his command. The hare's throat was missing, as was the vast majority of the fur around his shoulders and belly, and a foul stench was erupting out of the gaping cavity in his belly. Noonahootin scooped a pile of snow upon the hare with his good wing, muttering to himself as he began covering the former soldier.

?I promise, Guardsbeast, I will tell your mother personally. I'll tell her you passed painlessly. She needn't know about...that,? the owl swore, filling the hare's belly with snow. Daintily, the owl finished covering Hoffington just in time to hear the ferret give a shout.

?Oy, there's a tunnel in here!? Cookie hollered, and Noonahootin hastily joined the ferret's side. Amber eyes peered down into darkness; sure enough, a smooth, round tunnel tapered off from beneath the cart that smelt strongly of wet mustelid. Noonahootin hummed, deep in thought. Perhaps stoats were to blame, but the tunnel was a bit small and had no visible entrance point around the cart.

?Moles,? Noonahootin concluded, and Cookie gave a snort of irritation.

?Oh, come on, Captain! What've you got against moles? You can't seriously-?

?I can and I do-HOO!? the owl huffed, drawing himself up and adding confidently, ?If you'd like to go down and check for yourself, I'll bet you a flask of gin you'll find moles!?

?You got a flask of gin on you, then?? Cookie asked in mock suspicion.

?As a matter of fact,? the owl muttered, sitting down heavily in the snow and lifting a claw to rummage around in a pocket sewn into his woven, Yew-issue poncho. A hoot of success, and the owl pulled out a silver flask with a bouquet of flowers embellishing the front. It sloshed just a little and Cookie leaned forward in interest.

?Saving it for a special occasion, eh, Captain?? the ferret asked.

?Saving it to fight infections, as it were,? Noonahootin retorted shortly, skillfully unscrewing the flask's cap with his talons. ?My wing and face, mostly. That little ferret lass back in the cave has a rather frightening toe injury, as well.?

?An' I'd got half a pine tree through my gut. May need somethin' like it sooner than Poko. An' what else you got in there??  the ferret asked, sniffing at the gin and grinning despite himself.

?Well, there's not much. Just a ration of meat,? Noonahootin said slowly as he returned the cover to the flask, fully expecting Cookie to accuse him of being selfish. ?I've been keeping my mouth shut about that as it's...well, it's dried and salted rat meat. I only have three strips of it left, but I doubt Missus Gashrock would be pleased to know I was carrying around her kin for a snack.?

?Probably no worse'n what I've boiled up for the Players last week, but best keep all that quiet, right,? Cookie agreed. ?If it keeps you from eatin' us, then you can keep it to yourself. Ain't no complaints from me.? 

?Good, good. Here; you might as well have some of this while it lasts.? Noonahootin extended the flask towards Cookie, holding the gin lightly between two wicked hooks. The ferret gingerly accepted the flask and dabbed some upon his stomach wound with his paw. When he went to hand the flask back, Cookie's eyed the owl's shoulder wound wearily. ?Put some of this on there already??

?Naturally, yes; I wouldn't dare not tend to my wing. Nothing to worry about!" the owl chuckled, screwing the cap back on with practiced ease and tucking the flask into its pocket. "Now, about this tunnel!? The owl's voice became business like in tone, his face stern and focused. ?If you want to go exploring, I won't be able to go in after you; too many feathers. So, if you run into trouble, I shan?t be able help you. You?ll be on your own, and that doesn?t bode well in light of the circumstances.? 

?I'll get Zevka to come with me, then. She can dig, I'm sure... an' go first, of course. Hellgates, maybe Greenfleck went down there to get away from the crows, the coward,? Cookie said.

?That's the spirit!? Noonahootin hooted. ?Right! Back to the cave. We have much to report.?

The ferret and owl once again made their way up the mountain from the ledge, Noonahootin hissing almost every step he took as his broken talon stung and sent sharp snaps of pain up his leg. Cookie had offered to help the scout, but the proud owl had refused, chortling as he did. Noonahootin's posture became shy, soon after, and his face a mask of contemplation.

?If you wouldn't mind, Mister Cookie, I, ah...well, I shall stay behind with the others this time. My wing, you see...? The owl sheepishly raised his wounded appendage, grimacing as he did. The ferret patted Noonahootin on the wing a little harder than was necessary.

?Ah, no worries, Captain! Not like I'd be blind without a lookout,? the ferret said brightly as he heaved himself back onto what remained of the road. Together they walked back into the cave, Cookie loudly announcing their return. Behind him, the owl considered the ferret momentarily before nodding to himself. Perhaps the ferret wasn?t just a gypsy fool after all. Slowly, the captain trudged forward to join the other survivors.

?What'd you bring us?? Poko asked enthusiastically, bounding up to her fellow Dewhurst player and the Yew scout. When Cookie spread his empty arms wide for all to see, a groan of disappointment and anger rose up from the group.

?You brought back nothing? Nothing? You couldn't even find a coat to wear?? Zevka chided, approaching the two rather aggressively. ?Some scout you are, bird!?

?I'll have you know, all of you,? Noonahootin began, raising himself high above the pine marten, ?That those moles from last night had gotten to the wreckage before we could get back! They've stolen everything.? He stared right at Zevka, glaring at her with his piercing eyes. ?Even the coats. That unfortunate news was discovered after the ruddy crows attacked us. Dirty little terrors are eating up everyb-?? the owl paused, his eyes flickering to Poko momentarily. ?Everything they can find. Left us nothing, really.?

?Where's Greenfleck?? Vanessa piped up, saluting Noonahootin as she approached, keen to hear what had happened.

?Well, we, ah,? the owl stumbled a bit, shifting his weight from one side to the other.

?He stayed back. Said he wanted to keep lookin',? Cookie interrupted, lying nonchalantly for the owl. Nobody would have to take the blame when the toad was found dead, or never found at all. Gratefully, Noonahootin shuffled to the back of the cave, tossing a few sticks into the embers and fanning it with his good wing. Cookie dumped the wood he had carried back beside the small flames, grunting as he leaned back and put his paws upon his pained lower back.

?I'm gonna head back to check out a hole, but I need some fresh eyes,? the ferret declared, ?The Captain's a wee bit tuckered out from our battle with the crows, an' sure as Hellgates ain't gonna fit where we're goin'.?

?I'll go,? Zevka said crossly, eyeing Noonahootin and Cookie distastefully. ?Take a look to see just how bad these crows are that you came back as soon as you did.?

?I might as well go too,? Gashrock offered, standing up from where she had been stitching a tear in her dress hem. ?Beats bein' cooped up in a cold cave all day.?

?Very well,? Noonahootin said lightly from where he crouched. Nyika had crawled over and was sitting beside him, curled up in the shield of his stretched-out wing. The owl looked down at the cat, a peculiar look of peace in his eyes as he let her bat at a pinfeather. ?Be back before dark.?

The second scavenging party turned to go, buttoning up their clothes and rubbing their paws together in anticipation of the cold.

?Cookie,? Noonahootin suddenly called to Cookie, and the ferret turned around, a brow cocked in curiosity.

?Be careful.? It was all the owl could offer, but it was enough, and Cookie waved a fair-well before turning his back and disappearing out of the cave.