Blackfeather Woods about it

@Astara

---

The bird flew to a different forest. He was mad at the world today. He was gonna fight these dark knights that loitered here. So here the idiot was, flying silently above the trees lined with the cloaked warriors that laughed and snarled at each other. It was very much alive for avians. 
He started selecting targets, looking for the biggest flock of the crows he could find. 

There, a grey headed one perched on the end of a branch that was occupied by the denizens. 
He let out a loud eekekek before tilting down, building speed fast. The elder bird turned, letting out his own caw of alarm before being slammed in to by outstretched talons. 
The pair fell through the treetops down into the void below until they thudded on the forest floor.
Blindside, trashed, twisting up and flapping his wings as a storm of caws thundered overhead. The bird below him was still, his body pierced by talons.

The owl cooed softly, removing himself from the fallen elder. Well, that was unbelievably fucking boring. He expected more from the shitty so-called warriors that reigned the treetops here. He yelled as much, 
"Bunch of half-baked bitch-ass feathered elbows."
The bird fluffed up his feathers, hunching and glaring accusingly at the mutilated corpse he'd crash-landed with.

---

a crash and a wild flurry of feathers suddenly interrupted the relative quiet of the floor below the canopy of birds, and astara, who had been sitting rather listlessly by the altar, drew her gaze to the vexing scene with a look of quiet confusion. as soon as the cacophony sounded, it was ended -- and an owl stepped from the feathered fray, his felled adversary beneath him.

astara did not get up as she watched the owl, curious as to why it had assailed one of blackfeather's innumerable shadows. she was not particularly fond of the birds, but she knew little of owls, and found herself meeting the wide eyes of the strange bird with a feeling akin to disorientation swimming in her consciousness.

---

He turned around in his little waddle to lock eyes with a wolf. If he could frown he would, but he had a beak. It was hard to frown with a beak. The bird hopped up onto the felled warrior, cooing softly in his displeasure. He tilted his head, almost glaring at the dark wolf.
He clenched his talons, digging them into the crow.

What did this wolf want, exactly? Just looking at him all funny and curious.
He stretched up, flaring his wings and beating them before settling back down, hunched over the bird. Staring into those endless violet eyes. His own large, yellowed eyes were unflinching.
He let out a sharp and short eekk before lowering his head to tear into the bird.
He pulled out feathers, strewing them around him yet not eating the actual bird.
Just making a big mess really.

---

astara was drawn to the bird's gaze, for it was wide and unblinking - not unlike the golden disc of a summer moon. certainly, it held far less warmth - as she peered into those circular lanterns, she realized it was perhaps the first time she had looked upon a bird and felt her stare unflinchingly returned. the corvidae, clever as they were, rarely stared back -- instead, it seemed she only held their fancy a short while... but this bird.. it seemed to glance within her, and then just as easily, moved on.

as the owl hunched over his quarry and proceeded to rip flesh and feather from it, astara moved. like a cat, she silently stalked forward -- and then, devious as the aforementioned predator, she launched towards the owl with impish play, attempting to rouse in him a sense of panic so he fled.

---

He didn't notice the devious hellion until he was sprung for, catching her swift form sweeping for him before flying up with a furious squawk of terror. He wheeled around above her before alighting himself in a tree.
His feathers puffed out, his wings beating out to shake the near-death feeling.
He glared down at the girl with venom in his gaze, clicking his beak together.
He was enjoying himself until now.

Eyeing up the wolf, he silently arose from his perch and wheeled around a few times like a vulture.
 When his mind was made, he dropped down from the sky, aiming to latch his talons into her rump and perhaps shred her tail.
That would be rather fun. And payback.

---

astara's move had been made mostly in play, but she was deviously delighted to see the owl flutter off, as offended as a hen chased from her roost. he settled in a branch high above, his beak clicking -- the noise was not one the girl had heard before, and her muzzle tilted this way and that, with her long ears flopping in each motion.

and then he dove -- being far faster and on the wing, he easily had the advantage. astara had scarcely turned around before his talons raked her rump, drawing a pained yelp from the girl. this was play no longer -- with a snarl she wrung herself to the side and snapped at the bird's trailing talons, a guttural growl sounding deep in her body.

He'd hit his mark, angering the spirit. Good. He would laugh if he had the ability. He flapped wildly, trying to rise away from teeth when his foot was caught. Teeth pulled, clasping on him with a snarl that vibrated his leg. He wrenched his foot with no small ounce of pain. He shrieked, wings beating hard against the force that had now pulled free and drove him directly into a tree's skeletal arm.

He tumbled to the ground, blood falling from his ripped talon. The adrenaline was still strong in him, forcing his petrified form to beat against the ground and try to upright himself. Surely, his furious wing beats would keep the spirit at bay. Or perhaps she was brave enough to dive right on top of him. Either way, Blindside wasn't enjoying himself much anymore.
What was a conquest was now a retreat; a hasty one at that.

the girl had not expected her fangs to find his flesh, but when her teeth hooked on talon, she felt a flush of satisfaction -- up until he buffeted her in the face with surprisingly powerful wings.

the spirit did not have intentions to kill him, though she did enjoy rather cruel games. as he flew into a tree, she paused and watched his clumsy landing, noticing the chaotic way his wings heaved and flapped with little sympathy in her gaze.

she remained rooted to the spot, and sat down upon her haunches -- watching him the way a cat might watch fish underneath the ice.

The avian righted himself and, realising he wasn't set upon again, sat disgruntled on the ground. Catching his breath with a talon curled to try and relieve the pain.
He glared daggers at the wolf.
She'd started it; he'd attacked her properly.

Whatever.
He cooed softly, puffing out his feathers. He didn't want to be here any longer. It was chilly, dark and full of things that he didn't like.
He clicked his beak once and absconded from the woodland, navigating his way through the trees. Eyes on the birds that may or may not come for him, though perhaps they thought he'd suffered enough.
He guided himself eastwards, hoping to find a place to roost before snow descended again.

unluckily, astara did not possess wings -- so when the bird collected its wits, scooped up its pride, and then fluttered into the trees, astara was forced to watch from the ground.

never had she felt so tethered to the earth as when she watched this bird easily quit her company by the simple virtue of possessing the traits to be airborne.

she followed after him, but it was likely little use. he was well beyond her reach, and all she could see as she glanced skyward was the choking canopy of the black forest.