Heron Lake Plateau another five more short graybles

Screech had a pretty bad memory for certain things. He had this bad habit of rewriting the history of his own experiences to suit the moment, but beyond that, he'd convinced himself of various "truths".

The "truth" that he had done something irredeemably bad to warrant the negative view from his family.
The "truth" that he would never amount to anything more than what he already was (an asshole, an unlovable loser, a waste of space). And finally, the "truth" that his sister would always surpass him.

Each of these thoughts sat on a mental pyre which he fed, little by little, with the kindling of his doubts and errors. At this point a match was ready to be struck and those pyres were ready to burn — but he held off on doing that (knowing fully that sticking around might be futile, and that he might be one of those unfortunately doomed souls that would have to start over one day, regardless of the efforts). Instead, today, in this moment, he took a breath — and with a holler, tore across the plateau at full-tilt until he went crashing through the shallows of the lake.

He was causing enough ruckus to startle a flock of ducks into motion. A little ways away there was a blue heron, and it lifted its long beak from the water and took off too, bothered by the noise and probably eager to find somewhere quiet to fish. The boy snapped carelessly at the fleeing bodies of the fat ducks, missing the wing of a tawny-colored female, and then wheeled about chasing after some of the sleepy, fat, green-headed males. The younger ducks waddled and called in desperation while mature ducks took flight or zoomed for the deeper water, but Screech didn't care. He was venting his frustrations. He was having some fun, even if he had to do it all on his own.

The short swim to her roost was a blessed relief after a long, hot patrol. When she reached the little island, she didn't bother shaking out her pelt. Soaking wet and dripping everywhere, she padded to the small cache she kept there and helped herself to a fat duck. After eating her fill, she relaxed in a patch of sunshine and promptly fell asleep.

Some time later, her eyelids fluttered as shadows passed across them. Her orange eye slowly opened and she looked upward to see several birds winging overhead. Towhee sat up with a yawn, then cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders before rising onto all fours. She stepped out of the copse to see the source of the disturbance and found Screech leaping about in the shallows, chasing ducks.

She moved closer to the water's edge, watching him zip along the other shore, observing his antics and wondering how long it'd take him to notice her.

He was fully invested in his pursuit of the awkwardly-shaped birds, and kept on veering from point to point and causing a great commotion in the process. Some of the ducks appeared to realize he meant them no harm and would do their awkward-waddle away from his snapping teeth, or they'd give him some glancing looks before settling back in to their routine of floating.

The younger ones fled to the deep water, and that gave him some incentive to keep chasing. Screech plunged in to the lake in the next moment or so, taking on the look of a silver crocodile as he doggy-paddled after the birds. Obviously they were better equipped to maneuver in the water than he was, and soon they'd found themselves the safety of the little island (and taken wing) or they'd split off in to so many smaller groups that he couldn't keep up. 

Screech hoisted himself out of the water after some swimming, but he remained oblivious to his sister's observation. The boy sat in the shallows on the spit of land and let himself drip, but otherwise basked in the spring sun with his tongue out and breaths heaving.

She didn't move even when Screech took to the water, zooming after a few ducks before hoisting himself onto her little islet. Her damp hackles bristled slightly, though she told herself to chill. Just because she hung out here all the time didn't mean other members of the pack weren't welcome. Sure, she still wasn't sold on Screech at all, but she knew she needed to make an effort to see whatever it was that Raven saw in him.

"I have a question for you," she said loudly, rather apropos of nothing, slowly turning her snout in his direction but otherwise remaining motionless.

He felt happy, but the sensation was fleeting. He also felt uncomfortably wet and kind of annoyed that the ducks didn't hang out for more stupid playtime, but he'd have to let that stuff go. Just as Screech finished shaking his head and then prepared to shake the rest of himself, he heard his sister's voice booming over the lakeside, and bolted to his feet as if he'd been doing something horrible and he'd been caught. He turned sharply but didn't see her - then remembered to compensate for his missing eye, and caught her a moment later with a sharp look. It didn't soften, but he did his best to relax backwards on to his haunches again.

Yeah? He murmured, unsure of how he felt about being quizzed - or talked to at all, considering his track record with everyone lately. The boy decided to give her the benefit of the doubt for now (maybe because she had an attack-hawk that could easily peck out his remaining eye, or maybe he was feeling charitable), and added: Okay, shoot.

She could see that she'd taken him by surprise and it pleased her, though Towhee quickly brushed that pettiness aside. She rose and padded closer to her brother, stopping a yard or two away from him. She was tempted to sit, though Towhee felt more comfortable with all four feet beneath her. She wanted to trust Screech, though she wasn't there yet.

"It's about—" she began and then stopped just as abruptly, clearing her throat. Damn. She hadn't realized that just saying his name would be so difficult. "It's about Phox," she managed to choke out, the strain clear even as the syllables fell like rough-hewn marbles from her lips. "When you disappeared—left—were kidnapped—whatever—" Towhee paused again to suck in a breath. "Was he there? Involved? In any way?"

He hadn't expected anything from the question, but what she asked took him by surprise, more-so than her spooking of him. It came out of left field; and so did his guilt, because he hadn't thought about Phox in a really long time. It hadn't seemed strange at all that Phox hadn't been there when the Redhawks arrived on the plateau — that, or he had been too distracted to really consider who had been present. It struck him now that he hadn't seen Phox in... a myriad of months.

Screech couldn't stop his brow from furrowing, nor could he prevent himself from feeling a bit worried about the implication that her question brought. Had something happened to their brother? No, he wasn't there. I don't remember the last time I saw him. That begged the question — Why? Did something happen to him? Come to think of it, maybe the reason Screech was so vehemently against seeing Towhee in a position of power was because she was missing half of herself. Phox had always been her best friend, even Screech knew that. It seemed sensible that they would rule together (instead, Towhee had ruled alongside a weird bird, but whatever).

"No," he said, "he wasn't there..." Towhee didn't see anything else beyond that, since her eyes suddenly went blurry on her and she jerked her head away to glare out over the lake. She collected herself and slowly turned back to him. He looked a little disconcerted, whether because of the question itself, her reaction or maybe concern for Phox's whereabouts.

She hadn't caught his question but she managed to answer it anyway when she said, "He disappeared around the same time you did: right before we went to war. X thinks he spotted him, far away from here. And I just—I had to ask," she said haltingly, her entire expression shutting down as if she regretted having brought it up at all.

Truthfully, she didn't want to dwell on the subject. But Towhee wasn't much of one for small talk, especially around someone like Screech. A long pause stretched between them as she thought of what to say now, only to come up with, "You really suck at duck hunting."

He barely got his question out before she was turning away, and so he went quiet. Let her have that moment to get composed. The explanation that came next made his frown deepen slightly and then, go a bit thoughtful. Maybe Phox had run from the oncoming battle - which would make him exactly as cowardly as Screech, or perhaps moreso, since he hadn't really run from the fight so much as... Run from the retrobution of an angry ally. Either way, it was something he needed to consider.

The last comment sounded more natural, more controlled. He entertained her jab with a dramatic little huff and then glanced at the lake's calming waters, at which point he said: Well I wasn't hunting them, I was just chasin' them. Half didn't even try to escape. It was pathetic. Maybe pathetic of himself too for not going after those lazy ones — but that's okay, he was just trying to burn some energy.

It wasn't the most tactful icebreaker, though Screech didn't seem too bothered about the insult. He explained that he hadn't been hunting them, just chasing them for fun. Towhee snorted but said nothing. Now that she thought about it, she didn't want to discuss hunting anyway. It reminded her of Phox when all she wanted to do now was forget about him all over again.

"So, do you remember any ptero?" Towhee asked in the next breath. That seemed a much more conversational topic, at least.

Her next question veered away from the topic, and earned a small squint. Evidently his explanation was enough to deter her from questioning his abilities further, but to redirect to ptero of all things — he shook his head, but then stopped as he considered the question a little better. He motioned the ptero alphabet (or a quick and messy version of it) to spell: F-A-R-T, and then after a pause to think, he wrote: B-U-T-T-S.

With a small snort, Screech watched his sister and carefully enunciated, I can spell some stuff, but I'm out of practice. Was she going to teach him something? For all he knew, ptero was limited to just spelling stuff out and Screech couldn't figure out a use for such a language. Then again, it had been ages since they'd tried to talk with it, and maybe Towhee had developed other signs that he didn't know about — which was, in this case, true.

Towhee just barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes when he spelled out several immature epithets. Despite herself, she was pleased to see that he hadn't totally forgotten the sign language. He said he was out of practice, which was expected. It very much belonged to the Redhawks' inner circle and he hadn't been a part of that for a very long time.

She majorly hesitated to consider him part of it now, though with several of her closest relationships currently thrown off kilter, Towhee made the sudden decision to keep the door cracked open for him. "Would you like to practice now?" she asked slowly.

It seemed odd that she'd offer to teach him anything, and odder still that Screech considered sticking around to learn how to communicate on her level. They were both trying to make amends, maybe. Or just try to get along for Raven's sake - who really knew. But he shrugged, not entirely invested in the idea but not saying no either.

You mean there's more than this? He motioned signs for the letters 'T-O-W-H-E-E' and then, feeling tired of the weird movements, shook out his body in a flurry. It wasn't the most practical language ever; then again, he didn't know of the simplified names she'd come up with or anything beyond the alphabet.

He couldn't be serious. Was he serious? Towhee arched an eyebrow but bit her tongue from making a tart reply. Instead, she both said and signed, "Yes," before adding, "It's an entire language." She'd expected him to be rusty but to have forgotten that this was a legitimate method of communication...

She'd gotten so good at reading lips, perhaps too good. Ptero wasn't even necessary anymore. It was so important to Towhee though. She would never let the language die. She would make sure everyone in the pack knew it, at least the basics, and that included Screech. As a matter of fact, her expectations for him would be higher: he was her litter mate, after all, and he should've been fluent.

"You don't have to spell everything out like that," she said a beat later. -Towhee,- she signed, explaining, "See? That's my name sign. And this was yours, back when..." She made the rusty old sign for his true name: Titmouse. "Here's the sign for Screech," she added, using the exact same signal for his name as the actual word itself, which involved a crude mimicry of, well, screeching.

There was an accusatory tone to her words, but he let it slide for now. She couldn't seriously expect him to remember something that he learned as a little kid, could she? It wasn't like he used it very often. The language itself had just begun to form and he'd gotten lost pretty quickly after that. Whatever.

Okay okay, he acquiesced with a small wave of his paw. She showed him a few signs and that's when things sort-of dawned on him: he remembered that sign, which made her indignation a little bit justified. Screech imitated what she'd done and signed -Towhee- back at her.

The two versions of his own name earned a squint. Which one should I use? He didn't identify as Titmouse anymore (no matter how hard that was for Towhee to accept, damn it), but so far he'd only encountered problem after problem when he'd assumed the identity of Screech. He realized a second too late that the question itself made it sound like he was trying to accomodate her disability — oops.

Despite herself, Towhee cracked a genuine smile when Screech neatly signed her name back at her, his movements looking almost as practiced as her own—muscle memory, perhaps? She quickly schooled her expression, though there was a glimmer in her eye. It was hope. Her brother('s ability to communicate via ptero) was not beyond redemption.

When he asked which one he should use, Towhee shrugged. She didn't understand his renaming, yet at this point she was rather ambivalent. "Whichever one you want. We could also come up with an entirely new name sign for you, since this"—she repeated the sign for "screech"—"literally means screech, like scream or shout. We could make one up that just means you, the individual who goes by Screech."

She thought for a moment, then had to fight back another smile as she suggested, "How about this?" Towhee made a few simple signs in quick succession which, directly translated, meant, -Wrinkled baby pecker.-

Maybe using Screech was his only real option. It suited him — more than Titmouse did anyhow — but that was because he understood the world in a different way than Towhee did. She had built this language from the ground up and for her, both words were synonymous at this point. Maybe he should just stick with what they had. Then again, why did any of this matter?

But she seemed invested now, and was signing something new for him. Screech didn't know what it meant. It was all very fast, fluid, and seemed to be entertaining to Towhee for some reason; he didn't realize what she was calling him and so, urged by an ingrained need for familial acceptance, he just shrugged and said, Sure I guess that works too. It looked different from the other signs. In the end it didn't matter what she signed for him, nobody outside of the pack would ever understand it and he'd always feel more attached to his actual name, the verbal one.

After a moment he thought of something else, and said: Do you have signs for everyone?

When he readily accepted her impromptu name sign, Towhee's cheek muscles hurt from resisting the urge to grin. Oh, man. She could see it now: Screech approaching someone fluent in ptero and, in an effort to gain acceptance via common ground, signing his name. The thought delighted her, though there wasn't anything hostile about her amusement. In fact, if there was one sign that someone was growing on her, teasing was it.

"Yeah," she said, then began cycling through name signs and saying each name out loud so he could match them. "Uncle Elwood, Aunt Finley, Raven..." Towhee rapidly went through the entire pack, ending with Niamh's custom-tailored name sign. "Not to forget X," she thought to add, the hawk's name one of the simplest (and somehow most bad-ass) of the bunch as she sat up and emphatically crossed her forelegs in midair.

She knew the name of every wolf in the pack; he could recognize most of them, but honestly wasn't sure about a good chunk. The last name she gave was just a letter, and he did a small double-take with a shift of his eyes, stating: Right, can't forget X... Whoever that is. His ears fanned about a little, and he watched his sister throw about the sign like she was about to drop mad beats.

She did a double-take when he didn't recognize X's name. Hadn't he ever met the resident red-tailed hawk? But when Towhee thought about it, she realized that X had left right before their fight (hence the lack of warning). He'd been gone for a bit and it wasn't like Towhee spent a lot of time around her prodigal brother. It was totally possible he was unaware of the raptor, even now that he'd been back a while.

"X, the red-tailed hawk that lives here with us," Towhee said, thinking to add, "with me, specifically. He's a great hearing aid. You've really not seen him around?"

Red tailed..? Wait what.

That bird is your bird? He effectively gasped and did a mental double-take, realizing so many things at once. It was strange to have a bird companion but at the same time it was hella cool, and at the same same time, Screech realized the bird had been around a little longer than the namesake Redhawks in regards to the plateau.

He shook his head, I saw the hawk before, like, before before, when I'd just reached the lake. Actually your bird helped me hunt some food down — so yeah, it's a great aid in general. You're probably better off with those eyes on your side, not to mention the hearing thing, but Screech was more awed by the fact that his sister had a freakin' bird doing her bidding.

His name is X? That's so badass, dude.

"N—" Towhee began to say. The hawk didn't belong to her. But the word was lost as Screech told her he'd met X previously. She watched his lips as he explained how the raptor had even helped him hunt. Her brows lifted dubiously, until she realized it was totally plausible that all of this had happened on X's scouting mission.

She felt a little creep of heat beneath her jaw at the reminder of X's major error. But it was crowded out by Screech's open delight at Towhee's relationship with X. Even despite her brother's sketchy past, his sentiments toward the bird had the same effect on her as every other time. She slowly smiled, gladdened to have found someone who accepted his presence rather than gave it the horse eye.

"Yep," she replied, "and X is awesome. He doesn't belong to me but we struck up a mutually beneficial relationship back in the day and he's hung around ever since." Obviously, Towhee didn't point out that her hawk had indirectly caused the turf war... "He's an unofficial part of the pack and if he takes to you, I'm sure he wouldn't mind lending you another assist sometime."

Screech was a little star-struck by the idea of having a raptor, something that the rest of the Redhawk pack had already gone through and put aside; it was his turn now, and he thought it was just too cool. Then again, as he thought about it, having a bird doing your bidding was one thing — but Towhee made it sound like it wasn't a pet or a trained ally, just some bird that lived with her. Did that mean she'd sent it scouting for a new home? Or maybe it found the plateau and decided for them that it was suitable? Either way Screech was still sore about being run off his land (more or less), but it made more sense that the bird just... Kinda.. Fucked up.

So... He probably scouted the plateau for you. Can you talk to X at all? Can he understand voices or, uh, your ptero? Maybe some derivative of ptero — maybe certain musical notes, or songs! Towhee being deaf was sort of an obvious issue with that thought, but Screech kinda forgot at this point.

Speak of the devil: X himself appeared in the distant sky, heading this way, and Towhee abruptly realized she was late for her next patrol. She missed the first part of Screech's question (probably for the best), though turned to him in time to catch the latter half: "—talk to X at all? Can he understand voices or, uh, your ptero?"

"Yes, we communicate pretty effectively, actually, which is really kind of miraculous when you sit down and think about it. I can't read his lips—he doesn't have any—and he doesn't have digits, so ptero is out. We sort of use a more rudimentary sign language, for the most part. Plus lots of 'yes' and 'no' questions. By the way," Towhee continued, flicking her muzzle skyward, "here he comes."

Her orange eyes watched as X swooped closer, soon gliding to land on a bough overhead. "I'm coming!" she called up to him, then faced her brother. Her mouth opened to say goodbye, though it clapped shut. She deliberated a moment, then said, "You can come patrol with me, if you want." Without waiting for an answer, the Beta padded to the islet's edge and dove into the water, paddling toward the opposite shore and onward toward the borders.

Last post, feel free to wrap! :)

It made sense. The bird probably had its own language too, but it would've been something more useful for someone with working ears; somehow though, the two vastly different entities had found common ground. If it worked for them, could it work for him? Screech wondered about this as he listened, but she seemed distracted - peering over his head at the oncoming hawk, and Screech turned when he heard the branch shift softly behind him. There was X, poised impatiently with the sun gleaming across his ruddy feathers.

Towhee called to the hawk, and then asked Screech a question he didn't expect — he turned to regard her as soon as the request was uttered, a little surprised and unable to hide it, but he acquiesced quickly: Okay, although he had to catch up to Towhee in the next moment, as she was already on her way and not keen to go easy on him. Wait up -- !