Moonspear The line is where the night lies

The bird was here. In the light of day, Treepie could make out more of its features. She studied it as it roosted in the lower branches of a Sitka spruce, noting how its plumage resembled an owl’s. But its head was so… odd. Its eyes were enormous and black, staring right back at her.

She felt just as silly addressing it now as before as she asked, Are you following me?

The bird trilled in response, causing Pie’s eyes to widen.

Wait. You understood that?

Again, the bird trilled. It spread its wings and flapped them too, revealing a quick glimpse of white splotches disrupting the barring. Tiuttuk blinked and stared, wondering if this was some sort of phenomenon or if lesser animals had always been able to communicate with wolves. The thought was as strange as it was sobering.

Can you speak…?

It was unmistakable: the bird shook its head. Pie took a moment to marvel at the ongoing communique before really registering the answer. The raptor—she was fairly certain of that, after the episode with the mouse—knew what she was saying but couldn’t talk back.

Why did you drop a mouse on me? Pie mumbled under her breath.

The bird didn’t react this time, going back to staring. Treepie gazed back for a few beats, then tore her gaze away. Her brows knit as she stared thoughtfully at the patch of rocky ground between her forepaws.

The sound of scree bouncing down the mountain snared her attention. Pie’s head whipped up to watch Alaric moving along a game trail some distance overhead. Glancing at the bird unmoving on its perch, she broke into a trot, quickly climbing up toward the Sovereign. As she came closer, she picked up the scent of mountain goats.

Are you hunting? Alone? she hisspered as she crept up behind him.