Immortal Darkness: Shadow Across the Land (31 page)

Thanks to his recognition of emotions,
Pesstian was able to make out the many bolts of anger sprouting
from the humans’ voices. Completely awestricken by the sound of
their fury, Pesstian kept his distance, afraid the humans would
start a fight.

All anger came to a stop when one of them
pointed toward an area Pesstian could not see. Obscuring his vision
was a hill of snow. Curiosity taking over his mind, Pesstian pushed
his head through the hole—struggling all the while—hoping to push
himself out of the bag.

“What’re you doing?” Leyai asked through a
yawn. “Are you leaving
again
?”

A shock of fear and surprise moved its way
across Pesstian’s spine when he took hearing of these words.
Feeling as the shock travelled down to his tailbone, he nervously
took a look back at Leyai. “I’m just going to take a look,” he
murmured through a nervous smile.

“Don’t go!” Leyai commanded, the words
sapping her strength. “Have you
already
forgotten what just
happened a moment ago?”

“I’m just taking a look,” Pesstian whispered,
hoping to calm Leyai down. “I’ll barely even move away from the
bag. You’ve got nothing to worry about!”

Before Leyai could have protested any
further, Pesstian gave a large flap of his weary wings and pulled
himself out of the bag. Once free, he blocked out the sound of
Leyai’s voice.
What are those humans looking at?
he
wondered, curiosity pecking at his mind.

Pesstian used all his strength in an attempt
to increase momentum, moving only his wings. Thankfully for him, it
hadn’t taken much for him to catch sight of the human activity.

Both surprise and confusion flared within
Pesstian’s mind when his eyes caught what looked like hundreds of
gargantuan creatures—the likes of which were nearly four times the
size of a human. To add to their enormous size, these animals held
thick blankets of brown fur covering their entire bodies.

What the heck are those?
They were
quite possibly the largest beasts Pesstian had ever laid eyes upon.
One of them—and no more than one—could have sunk the human’s vessel
simply by standing on it. A bovine appearance held to every one of
them, only advancing Pesstian’s view toward their overall
largeness.

Before any such question could have been
answered, the sound of Leyai’s voice pierced through Pesstian’s
ears. Hearing as her voice echoed within his head, he momentarily
lost his balance and nearly toppled over into the snowy ground.
“Alright—I’m coming!” he growled while taking a look back at
Leyai.

His curiosity cured, Pesstian slipped back
into the humans’ bag. He felt as his feet met with the freezing,
icy ground, listening as anxiety urged him to tell Leyai of the
milieu he had just witnessed.

As his head fell back into the bag, Pesstian
gasped, “You won’t believe what I just saw!”

Suddenly excited, Leyai perked up slightly
while asking, “What’d you see?”

His heart leaping into his throat, Pesstian
released a small grunt and took a seat. “Okay,” he began after
clearing his throat. “While I was trying to figure out what the
humans were up to, I saw literally
hundreds
huge animals
walking in a group.”

“How big were they?” wondered Leyai.

“It looked like all of the humans could have
fit into one of their stomachs!”

It was only a heartbeat after hearing
Pesstian utter these words when the sound of Leyai’s laughter
filled the air. Not so much was she laughing at Pesstian; rather
she was laughing at the thought of
any
creature holding
enough mass to hold all the owls’ their human friends inside of
them.

Right now Leyai could imagine an obese
creature born without the ability to walk.
That’s probably what
they look like
, she thought.

“Sorry,” she giggled while rubbing her right
eye with her wing, “But I just don’t understand how something that
huge can even be alive!”

“Well, they were alive—no doubt about that.”
Just before a moment of silence could have split the air, the
cacophonous sound of violence suddenly pulsated into the owls’
ears.

“Who’s doing that?” wondered Leyai.

Not even waiting for an answer to come,
Pesstian urgently poked his head back out of the bag, nearly
causing it to topple over into the snow.
I gotta be more
careful
, he realized.
Next time I might draw snow into this
thing
.

As these thoughts rang true in his head,
Pesstian felt as snow and ice shot his eyes.
Where did they
go?
he wondered as he started to panic. Why now? Why was this
gust of wind torturing Pesstian now?

Fortunately for Pesstian, the wind did not
last forever—and at last he recovered his vision. The little owl
opened his eyes, wishing to see the large beasts once more. This
time, however, the sight of them only led Pesstian to
heartache.

Pesstian noticed as the humans gathered
around one of the large creatures—while the rest cowered away.
Beneath the humans’ feet was red snow—the sight of which caused
Pesstian to pull back into the bag.

“They killed one of them!” Pesstian gasped.
“The humans just brought down one of the huge animals!”

A startled look appeared on Leyai’s face when
she stammered, “B-but that’s impossible! If those creatures
really
are as big as you said they were, then they should
have been able to bring the humans down no problem!”

Upon hearing these words, Pesstian snuck
another peek at the group of the furry animals—this time without
tilting the bag at all. It was then when he noticed as the herd
made a desperate retreat from the humans.

Despite their large size,
Pesstian
silently muttered,
they can move pretty fast.
It hadn’t
taken long for the sound of their gathered footsteps to rattle
through the ground and up to the owls’ ears.

Pesstian suddenly lost his balance and nearly
toppled over on top of Leyai—only to feel as the claws of her legs
pushed him away. He may as well have been pushed with knives.

Turning around, Pesstian rubbed his chest
while apologizing, “Sorry about that.” Shifting slightly in his
seat, Pesstian continued, “But seriously—I think it’s best that we
just stay in here until the humans decide to do something with
us.”

A small sigh of worry escaped from Leyai’s
beak as she slowly nodded her head. “Okay,” she murmured her
confirmation.

As the owls waited for the humans to return,
they listened as the sound of death rumbled outside. According to
what Pesstian had heard, a total of five moans escaped from the
mouths of dying creatures. It was torture to have to hear somebody
else die—even if they were behemoth strangers.

At last the sounds of death ceased; nothing
remained but silence. Pesstian and Leyai both allowed sighs of
relief to pass from their beaks as a result.

“I hope that’s the last we’ll hear of
that
!” Leyai snorted.

“It probably won’t be,” Pesstian grunted,
flicking his gaze toward Leyai. “All I know is that we’re lucky
that we’re not them!”

“I know—I feel pretty sorry for them.” Leyai
sighed, thankful how she didn’t have to witness any of the outdoor
brutality.

“All I hope for now is that the humans will
give us something to eat with those creatures’ meat. I don’t care
what they taste like! I’ll eat one of those ocean animals just to
stop my stomach from eating itself!”

With a beak wide open, Leyai gasped in
disgust. “That’s horrible! Did you not just hear all those
creatures dying? And now you’re saying we should eat them?” Then
her stomach started growling violently. “Okay—fine!”

Feeling as sleep began to cloud his thoughts,
Pesstian released a sigh just before allowing a yawn to escape from
his beak. Feeling as if he had nothing else to do, he made himself
comfortable and prepared himself for what he thought was going to
be a long sleep.

Feeling as their malnourished, freezing
bodies grew weaker and weaker, the two owls fell into slumber.

--

As the little owls slept in their human
friend’s bag, Leyoht flicked his eyes wide open after a long sleep,
his head pressing up against his mother’s chest and the rest of his
body sitting on a rather itchy nest.

Now wide awake, he quickly came to notice his
father was nowhere to be seen or heard. “Mother?” he asked of
Sahemawia. “Where’d father go?”

Unaware of Leyoht’s awakening, Sahemawia’s
entire body jolted up in a flinch. Her heart rate slightly above
the norm, the sitting mother took a nervous look down at her son.
“Oh—good morning, Leyoht!”

“Ow—ow!” Sahemawia cried, her eyes clenching
tight. Without any warning, a cramping pain formed along her legs.
In order to ease her pain, she extended her legs, shifting in her
seat all the while.

Utterly confused, Leyoht placed a concerned
look on his face when he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Oh,” Sahemawia moaned in response. “I just
sat on the wrong side of the egg.”

“You were sitting on the egg?” Leyoht
muttered in question. “Why?”

At the hearing of these words, Sahemawia
picked herself up from her nest. Upon doing so, she revealed her
egg right below where she had just been sitting—and it was
completely safe from harm.

Leyoht asked while desperately trying to
stifle a chuckle, “Wouldn’t that break it?”

“Thankfully, it doesn’t,” Sahemawia replied
through a smile. She placed her seat on the egg once again when she
pointed out, “Anyway, if I were to
stop
sitting on the egg,
the chick inside will freeze to death. It’s even more likely that
it’ll die in the winter compared to how likely it was for you to
freeze up—since I hatched you out just before winter started.”

Right after these words escaped from her
beak, the sound of flapping filled the two owls’ ears. Gusts of
wind came out from beneath Ulpheir’s wings and into their ears—and
they both took a look toward the hollow’s entrance.

The son and mother saw as Ulpheir clutched
onto the rim of the entrance. Leyoht watched as Ulpheir made his
way into the tree—yet the only thing he focused on was the plump
lemming dangling from his father’s beak.

Such a sight had caused a sense of bliss and
paradise to enter Leyoht’s mind. Fortunately, he proved temporarily
able to hold back his emotions—that was until Ulpheir hopped up
directly in front of him, the lemming still hanging from his
maw.

A nearly inaudible chuckle escaped from
Ulpheir chest just before he started tearing up the lemming’s
carcass with his talon. The very sound of his father’s talon
seeping into the lemming’s flesh caused Leyoht’s gizzard to
rumble.

The young owlet’s entire body gave an excited
shake. Voraciously did the thought of dipping his beak into the
lemming’s rich protein ebb through his mind.
This is so
exciting! I haven’t eaten in almost a day!

Momentarily trapped in his own thoughts,
Leyoht’s eyes locked onto the lemming. However, his eyes lost their
position on the lemming when Ulpheir grabbed a fistful of the
rodent’s meat, holding it just below Leyoht’s beak.

Noticing the meat right in front of his face,
Leyoht opened his beak and gave his head a slight tilt—as to avoid
the possibility of hurting his father while scooping up the clump
of food with his beak. Not a single word escaped from his beak as
he gulped down his meal.

While his son remain blind-sighted, Ulpheir
allowed a worried look to cross his face.

Watching her mate anxiously set the rest of
the lemming’s body on the hollow’s floor, Sahemawia asked through a
murmur, “What’s wrong? Did something pop up?”

“Sahemawia, we need to talk about something,”
Ulpheir explained, flicking his gaze toward Leyoht. “Do you want to
go outside?”

It was during the moment of question when
Leyoht had just finished his share of the lemming. He closed his
eyes and placed a small strain on his neck as the remainder of the
meat slid into his stomach. His gaze pointing up toward his
father’s eyes, he questioned from him, “Huh?”

“Do you want to go outside?” Ulpheir
repeated, a slightly larger spark of emphasis forming in his
words.

Slightly confused at such a sudden offer,
Leyoht stammered through a smile, “Uh—o-okay.”

Barely a single word escaped from Ulpheir’s
beak when he wrapped his talons around Leyoht’s shoulders.

Feeling as his father’s talons squeezed what
felt like his entire body, Leyoht fought the urge to release a yelp
of surprise.
Why’s he taking me out all of a sudden?
he
wondered. Maybe Ulpheir was just in a good mood. Only a heartbeat
later and Leyoht’s talons ceased touching the ground.

As Ulpheir rushed through the tree’s exit,
Leyoht’s heart began to race when he felt the lower rim of the
entrance brushing against his talons. Such racing increased when
the cool, outside breeze brushed against the feathers of his
face.

His body blending in with the surrounding
white landscape, Ulpheir effortlessly glided down toward a thick
blanket of snow. Within a wingspan-length away from the ground, he
targeted a subtle spot for his son to land.

As Leyoht’s feet touched the ground, Ulpheir
almost immediately released his grip on his son’s shoulders. It was
shortly after doing so when Ulpheir flew his way back up into the
tree. All the while did he shout out to his son, “Just call for me
when you’re ready to come back inside!”

Ulpheir released a small sigh of both relief
and stress once his feet touched the hollow’s floor. Realizing as
her mate cast a worried look upon his face, Sahemawia asked through
a small wave of impatience, “What’s going on?”

A small pause of silence came into place
before Ulpheir sighed, “I have some bad news.”