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07-08-2017, 11:27 AM
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This is the story of my birth. Savera watches silently as our eggs are brought forward, dragged on their strange carriage of twigs. She, too, is curious, her silver eyes flickering rapidly between her mother, her sister, and the fox, as she tries to understand what new thing is about to happen. She has just grown comfortable, eased into reassurance that this new world is safe and happy and good and, most of all, complete, when it is interrupted once again. She bites her lip. What right does everything have to be so big? Something else is happening, something that inspires panic in the little morning star. Neaera is moving, reaching, and poor Savera watches in agony as her sister draws away, bleating her confusion and dismay at this turn of events. Why is she trying to touch the strange, moving orbs? Have they come to swallow them? Savera fears the worst... ...and the worst does not come. Instead her sister totters forward, rising into that vast, incomprehensible sky but not leaving, never leaving. She calls out, and Savera knows what she must do. She may be frightened, but she cannot leave Neaera to the mercy of these these orbs alone - and so she, too, rises, scrambling, stumbling, fighting her way onto tottering legs until she is standing beside her twin, staring raptly at the fiery, shattering egg. My egg, meanwhile, is beginning to rock. I am ready to emerge, but I shall not make such a hurried mess - it is unseemly and unnecessary, after all. My egg cracks in a perfect line, a split down the center that leaves the shell in two flawless halves, me curled up atop one. Soft and downy, I begin to simultaneously cry and purr, waiting for the rescue I know will inevitably come. And come it does, because within moments a golden nose is pressed against my belly, with Savera's eyes behind it, staring in wonder. I grab on. Savera starts and pulls away, crying out in pain and surprise. Again she glances at her mother and sister, uncertain, but it's already too late. She is mine - I can feel it the same way I feel my legs and wings, and I begin to cry out again, reaching for her, my owl's beak emitting a surprisingly high-pitched noise. This time Savera does not come to my immediate rescue, which I resent; instead she stands above me, her soft nose just out of my reach, sniffing and investigating, that cautious and curious mind of hers trying to make sense of what's happened before taking any unnecessary steps. She looks at her sister, trying to take her cue from the older girl before reaching out with delicate teeth to grab the edge of eggshell I still lay on, gingerly dragging it while retreating back to the safety of her mother's embrace. There she settles back down, carefully tucking her legs underneath her, her bright gaze never leaving mine. This time when she brings her nose toward mine I'm a little more careful, too. I crawl toward her, hooting quietly, and drag myself onto her face where I settle, content, while she remains alert and stock-still |
