Horizon Ridge with many a flirt and flutter

see yall in hell

a large shadow soared unhurriedly against a favorable afternoon sky, the tousled tips of wingfeathers outreached and smearing the embodiment of nuisance across the bearings like someone dragging a wet cigarette butt against the concrete. the only thing that would make the sight anymore majestic would be if bartok could produce the clarion, badass shrill of a hawk – but from his larynx would come no badass shrill, but the glottal rattle of grim come to collect paling life, raking and apprising ears wrought with dread.

but death hag he was not, and could not be, and did not particularly care to be. he was a notorious fugitive from responsibility, and planned for the day that unfurled before him was an undertaking of great priority and importance to him – he simply did not have the time management skills to take care of his own personal business and dance attendance on the chores of some lazy almighty son of a bitch who maybe wasn't as smart as people gave him credit for.. considering he hadn't so much as visited the thought of issuing a monastery of collies to herd/rapture his sheep to whatever neato dorito afterlife awaited them.

(i mean, it's 2015 dude. get it together. amazon prime exists. exploit that shit and you'll cut your work load in half, then you can browse pornhub or reddit or whatever, but we all know you're doing that anyway since you're forwarding all your mail to cloaked motherfuckers with their scythes and whatever. omnipotent my heathen derriere. amen)

the starless daub dropped from the skies abruptly, spilling to the earth like a black jet with a freshly licensed pilot negligent of imperative target procedures who'd just had a lovely transaction with the side of an alp. into the ridge's trees bartok crashed – deliberate in his technique – and landed on a pine-needle littered slope choked with stones and rocks of all different sizes. posed on one particularly flat, shelf-like rock was a pyramid of carefully stacked stones, and in his beak a golden pebble was clutched. the world may have never been privy to the knowledge of where he'd found the precious mineral – and he certainly did not invest much value in the thing – he was just really interested in carrying shiny things in his mouth. it made him feel pretty.

hopping gallantly over to his cache, he looked over the array in pensive rumination, turning over in his mind the most ideal place for the newest – and specialest – addition. around the tower he bobbed, tilting head movements and gentle warbling thrumming in his breast. and then.... EUREKA! he looked to the peak of his taloncrafted mountain and it suddenly felt like the right and obvious place for his aureate find.

so it was there he placed it. flitting backwards to behold his grand structure he puffed up and crooned with a feeling of accomplishment working on each of his senses, the crown dazzling upon of the bust.

Mind if my bird joins you :o

She had grown quite fond of the coast, and not only because Charon — her tiny wolf friend — lived here. The breeze that blew in from the ocean allowed the magpie to drift for hours, soaring over the landscape and keeping an eye out for treasures along the shoreline. It also escaped the grip of winter, the warm waters of the sea keeping the snow at bay. Of course, it still touched the forests that bordered the coastline but the weather was nothing like what it was around the mountains surrounding the Heartwood. She had half the mind to relocate to here, but she thought about her family returning to the Heartwood in Spring, only to find one of their own had abandoned their post. She felt a strange pang of guilt and decided she would simply settle upon travelling here occasionally. For treasures and treats.

One such treasure caught the bird's eye as she glided over a ridge that jutted out of the earth, a golden glint that caused her to swerve mid-air and fly in a circle just above the rocky outcrop. Her keen eyes spied a black smudge suddenly dip into the treetops, causing her to spiral into a descent herself, disappearing into the foliage after it. She was sure it was the source of whatever had shimmered in the sun; whether it had been something it was holding or a part of it itself. Shiv had to know (and possibly grapple it from him — attached or not).

Turns out, the other was a raven, or a crow, the magpie could never tell the difference. She landed on a branch a short distance away, canting her head as she watched on curiously as he rearranged a small tower of...pebbles? What caught her attention, though, was the single stone he placed upon the top, a golden orb that caused Shiv's eyes to widen in wonder and amazement. She instantly knew she had to have it. Nevermind the fact that she didn't even have a place to put it. Quietly and with earnest, she flung herself off the thin branch, gliding through the trees and zeroing in on the raven's tower of goodies. With an excited shriek, the magpie swooped down, talons aiming to wrap around and carry off the prize. Her prize.

not at all! omg that little.....

the raven, the artist, was so delightfully pleased with himself and his showpiece that he partially unfurled his wings and began to skitter about in what could have been mistaken as the jitterbug, a content warbling in his throat.

his back briefly turned, another bird, a magpie with a diablerie that rivaled his own, a menace, devoted herself to the task of sabotaging bartok and violating the dignity of his beloved sculpture. seizing on the opportunity to dash his chances of ever impressing a female in the spring with his flair for aesthetics (made that bitch a sculpture, bitches love sculptures) against the very rocks upon which he stood, shiv abducted from him the opulent object (a detail he failed to realize at first, so utterly traumatized was he from the attack).

about-facing with a plumb hop, bartok watched with disbelief as the marbled projectile and her weaponized quickness bolted in the other direction through the topgallant masts of trees. noticing he had involuntarily puffed his feathers completely from the suddenness of the ambuscade, he smoothed himself down and quickly flitted about and inspected the stack of rocks with suspicion, worried she had caved it in.

with the exception of some budged rocks, he could not find anything shifted out of place. okay, maybe she was just exceptional at jenga. he was around the corner of a sigh of relief, when his eyes traveled to the very top of the stack and it hit him – his precious diadem! the crowning piece! he made an exaggerated HUAAAAAHHHHHing gasp; in a beautiful show of hypocrisy, he was absolutely horrified that anyone would steal from him and boggled that they had the audacity to plan it in the first place.

accelerating through the five stages of grief, bartok leapt to the shelf where his golden pebble should have sat and squinted his eyes, watching as the scintillating dot dwindled into the distance. with a big huff, he fanned his large wings and shot up in the air, plunged then to the earth and launched like a heat-seeking missile after the fleeing burglar.

as he gained on her, the opening for salutations and other such niceities whistled past them at about 700 miles per hour. "GIVE BACK! NOT YOURS! MINE!" he shrieked, attempting to pull on her tail-feathers and yoink the aurelian stone from the enduring clutch of her talons.

ehehehe

Success! With the deftness that only a bird could possess, the magpie scooped the shiny stone up in her talons and took off with it, leaving the crow to wonder at the sudden blur of black and white. She was actually quite amazed at how easily she had gotten away with the theft. It had been so perfectly coordinated and went off without a hitch. The crow didn't know what had hit him! Perhaps she could make a habit out of this. Craning her neck forward a little, the magpie admired the golden pebble with fascination, wondering where the best place would be for it.

She almost thought to perch among the cliff-face once she was a distance away from her victim and his fine pile of rocks, thinking he hadn't the gall to follow her. However, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the quickly approaching dark form of the crow flying towards her, bellowing out his claim to the stone. Shiv gave a frightened squawk back at the male, pulling her legs up tight against her chest as she felt a sudden pull on her tail feathers. Curse her fabulously long tail!

"NO, MINE!" she cried out, turning to the utterly rude crow (ignoring the fact that the crime she had committed was much worse than a simple tug of one's feathers). Though, in her mid-air spin, her talons had loosened their grip on the source of their squabble and, in a moment that seemed to move in slow motion, Shiv accidentally let it slip from her grasp and it suddenly began to spiral downwards through the air.

what from below may have seemed like two birds squabbling over meter money, was from above nothing less grave than cold war. bartok hadn't even really established much value on the stupid rock in the first place, but now that someone else wanted it, and wanted it badly enough to take it from him? well, it was the most precious thing he'd ever possessed in his entire life. and it was just... imperative... that he exercised his proprietary right to his property.

the duo bickered mid-air, the raven channeling all of his ire for the intrepidity of it all into drubbing his bill at her feet like a jackhammer to "sweet-talk" her pretty little hooks into releasing their clamp on the stone, and the magpie… well, she was upset? that was about the extent of his knowledge about the current condition of her psyche.

her argument that it was her rock was, as he found, a claim in which citation was essential and not to mention it was also so very wrong because it was his blasted pebble and he had the receipt and he wanted his belongings returned to him instanter.

shav made to spin around to confront him (and presumably ram her beak into his winsome face) and bartok started back to defend his other assets, when the spirited movements dislodged from her hold the object of their mutual desire, and sent it plunging to the estate several hundred feet below.

the raven craned his head to peer downwards, his eyes watching as the pebble migrated due south but his brain unfortunately still buffering. he snapped his head back up and scrunched his brow, a self-satisfied smirk taking over his countenance. "HAA!" he whooped in her face, beak agape, but then it registered. "wait.." he shot another look downwards and was dropped into the lap of panic as he dilly-dallied to the realization that his chattel was no longer anywhere in sight.

shuffling his wings with a squawking gasp, bartok cast himself about with dismay replacing the oxygen in his lungs, and while also probably accidentally boxing shiv in the face with his wings in the delirium of it all, raced – straight as the crow flies eh heh heh – after the object hurtling through the canopy of trees beneath.

I'm so sorry for the wait! D:

Shiv was very upset. It didn't occur to her tiny brain that just because she now held someone else's property within her talons didn't make it automatically hers. Theft was an act that only others could do — not her. She was simply borrowing it for a while. A long while. She would take good care of it and simply wanted it to admire. Besides, from what she had seen of the raven's trove, he had more than enough trinkets and treasures!

When the shiniest of trinkets fell from her grip, they both turned to watch as it tumbled, both of their brains seemingly taking a moment to fully comprehend the situation. The raven seemed to come to a conclusion first, triumphantly shouting his victory before it quickly clicked. Shiv realised the direness of the situation at the same time as he, giving a strangled squawk of surprise. Now look what you've done, you silly crow!

A flurry of dark feathers then entered her vision of the expanse of forest below as her assailant (or victim, depending on which way you looked at it), frantically plunged after the pebble, buffeting her in the face with his plumage. The magpie was left slightly disoriented, though she quickly recovered, staring down at the speck that disappeared among the canopy. With a cry, she dived after the raven, following after him.

no rush! hope you dont mind my assuming that she landed shortly after him!

bartok flapped hectically after his/her prized possession (for which he now presumably needed an attorney – the legal battle ahead would be a cutthroat one. split custody? would he be primary caregiver or she? would he be paying support for their precious stone? did kidnappers even have rights?! oh the stress!!), straining his wings in an attempt to pump them even faster and expedite his downward voyage.

looking back, his eyes searched for any sign of the magpie, who was surely sailing after him to rescue her shanghaied cargo. right he was – she was gaining on him, and would soon zip by him with her lighter frame giving her the convenience of speed. not to mention, she was being transported by the indignation of a woman scorned. damn his clunky motor! damn her upgraded model! the raven nearly wheezed with all the frenzy of a hunting dog on the scent of a fox sprinting away with his milkbone. he broke through the treetops, unsure in his panic if she had already reached the goldenware but hopeful that she hadn't.

he practically slammed into the ground, his stout beak confronting gravity first with the rest of him shortly following suit. his wings sprawled, disheveled, tarry black feathers raining gently down around him as he laid there disoriented for a few moments.

but he soon remembered his purpose and jumped up, skittering pell-mell as he scanned the ground for the pebble. it had to be here! he squawked all sorts of colorful phrases, paranoid that the dumb cow who stole it in the first place possessed motion-tracking sensors and had somehow spirited away with it before he could land. his brain downloaded thousands of other similar possibilities as his eyes scoured and his beak racked through leaflitter.

just then, a twinkle flashed in his peripherals. he whipped his head and scooted over to its source. oh, good grief – mother earth's cleavage. where the underpinning of trees and their gnarled root systems thrived, the soil had collapsed and left burrow-like structures, and the piece of gold had fallen into one of the dozens of holes. "AUGHHHHHHHH!" the raven wailed, nearly falling over from the frustration of it all.

bartok stuck his head through the roots and clacked his bill inches from the rock, which was in stable condition cradled in a bedding of rotted bark and dirt. unfortunately, that was super duper not where he wanted it to be. with a moan that took on an sorrowful quality, the tail of it a drawn out whine, he turned to what he expected to be a certain menace present. he could pin all of his misery on her! deplorable creature! "your game suck! go away!"

huffing and puffing, the bird turned back around and peered into the dark again. "you. are. despicable." he bitched some more, narrowing his eyes to get a better look through the murk. he tried to angle himself to squeeze through the gaps, but only his wings made it through and he felt for the stone with the tips of his feathers. it worked about as well as expected.

he was much too fat to fit through the crevices. not that he would have if he could, anyway. he was acquainted well enough with forest to know that there was likely a resident who called this lair home. yup, probably something with teeth and an insatiable appetite for sauteed corvidae, and he didn't care much for that prospect at all.

oh.. but shiv wasn't too fat, was she? the magpie was considerably tinier than he, and could enter with ease! and her going in instead of him had the added bonus of diverting the hole occupant's attention away from him if necessary. his very own sacrificial lamb, so to speak.

bartok whisked his head in shiv's direction. "GO GET BARTOK'S THING." he demanded of her, moving politely out of the way as per requisite for her following his orders. how pleased would caiaphas be if she knew that bartok was dabbling in the hobby of sacrifice?! oh how proud she would be of her little zealot. how proud indeed.

Ending here ;_;

Shiv swore she heard a rather heavy thump down below a few moments after the raven disappeared amongst the treetops. She stopped, hovering in mid-air as she canted her head in the direction he had vanished, before swooping down with renewed vigour. With any luck, he had crash landed and knocked himself out, allowing her the perfect opportunity to quickly find the precious pebble and take it back to the Heartwood where it rightfully belonged — in her mind, at least. To her dismay, however, she found the raven upright and furiously searching through the many divots and crevices that surrounded a tree and it's exposed roots. She quickly bounded over to him, feathers bristled as she watched the stranger seek out his lost treasure. Shiv quickly formulated a plan, and was about to throw up her wings in a theatrical display, crying how it was lost forever and that he should give up his search — so she could come back later and find it, of course — before he suddenly turned to face her.

Angry, dark eyes met an equally infuriated gaze, and Shiv gave an indignant squawk. "Is not game!" she retorted, flitting forward. No, this was serious business. Their valuable stone was lost! Lost forever in one of the many networks of this trees roots. Alone and cold and...

...oh! The magpie trilled excitedly as she realised what her fellow bird was doing. Decidedly interested in a certain den, he struggled and squirmed, trying to fit his much too rotund body into the small entrance. Scoffing at his insult, Shiv hopped around to face the other direction, already certain of what he was going to ask when it dawned on him that he wouldn't fit. She heard him wiggle his way back out of the darkness their stone had fallen in to, and peered out of the corner of her eye as he demanded she retrieve it. How rude. She would have refused to do as he said until he asked nicely, but this was a situation of utter importance. There was no time for pleasantries.

Displaying her irritation with his blatant disregard for politeness (even though she herself was being equally as ill-mannered), the magpie strut past him with a dissatisfied hum, obeying his wishes regardless. It would mean that she would have the pebble again and, if she played her cards right, she could have it forever! Eagerly, Shiv wiggled her way into the opening, disregarding all sense of personal safety and ignoring the faint hissing sound that emanated from it.

It was suddenly apparent that the birds' endeavour for their golden rock would be a failure. Almost as soon as Shiv disappeared into the darkness of the den, she immediately shot back out of it in a flurry of feathers and frightened squawking. Fear for her life had overridden the need to regain possession of the pebble. After the magpie came the form of a very large and very angry snake, hissing and spitting after the infiltrators of its den. Without looking back to see if the raven had also escaped (nuts to him! Him and his silly stones), Shiv fluttered quickly into the foliage above, bursting into the air in a shower of leaves as she broke the tree line and swerved, turning to fly back to somewhere safer — somewhere away from hungry snakes and insufferable ravens.