Duck Lake hypnos

Tagging @Buzzard, @Vulture, @Condor and @Evien but anyone's welcome!

He sheltered in amongst the branches in the copse of aspen that bordered the lake, watching as the rain continued to fall from the dark grey skies. It had been like this for days now, maybe even weeks? Dart had lost track of the time. He just knew that this was not normal, and it made travel difficult, especially for a bird.

He shook out his feathers as small droplets fell onto his back, and gave a low cawing sound out of annoyance, to which the ducks nearby in the near overflowing lake responded with a chorus of maddening honks.

Man, the storm really fucked over this place huh? Twice the water, twice the mud, twice the pain. Not cool.

The only thing keeping Buzzard from noping the hell outta here was a bunch of birds chilling in the sorry excuse of a lake. Most of the birds they’d seen were fun-sized snacks. They could make a goddamn shmorgasbord out of these plump fuckers. Now they had to figure out how they’d get their paws on those guys. Buzzard’s brows furrowed, and their tongue poked out of the side of their mouth. It’s their signature thinking face.

An idea was just about to pop in their head, but that flew out the window as soon as everyone started squawking and honking. Ugh. Birds.

Buzzard glared up at the fucker that started it all. They were shocked to see a white crow. Or was it a raven? Who cares! They weren’t supposed to be white.

Woooaaaah. They tip-toed closer to the tree it was perched on. Aren’t you a weird looking guy? Heh. I wonder how you taste. Yeah, they didn’t care about the pudgy little pigeons in the lake. This one deserved to be eaten. Serves ‘em right for throwing off their train of thought.

with the air of a spectator watching their dog furiously chase its tail for at least the fifth time that hour, condor rested his chin on his paws and watched buzzard’s tongue poke out of the corner of their mouth. the mud was just as wet and sticky as it had been and no number of aspens would offer cover comparable in any way to canyon walls but, as much as it pained him to admit it, he would have to…settle. disgusting.

ugh. and he couldn’t even dramatically wilt on to his side lest he spend the next several minutes cleaning his beautiful rosebrown fur. truly this was hell and his pristine coat was his burden to bear. buzzard’s sisyphean torment, on the other hand, was figuring out how to catch a duck.

the alternative was their fur actually being washed and groomed, and not even hell could manage that one.

in the meantime, condor could practically see the smoke coming out of buzzard’s ears. yikes. his poor, poor sibling. it would be even more of a tragedy for them if they succeeded and condor stole their prize directly out of their mouth. such was his burden to bear as a younger brother.

sadly, it was not to be. the birds started up an unpleasant chorus whose origins came directly above his head, and condor peered up to lay eyes on a white raven perched in the trees. an odd-looking thing, and thoroughly out of anyone’s reach, which was the cue for buzzard to come stomping over and declare their intent to make it into a snack.

well, it was only fair.

“darling, don’t tell it that first.” condor absolutely did not care enough to get to their paws, though they were a bit put off that buzzard’s daring duck adventure would have to be set aside until later. “that’s no way to make a first impression.”

"What a freak!" Vulture, with her usual bitchy personality, was at awe' at the white raven, "aren't they supposed to be like, black?" She followed her siblings through the murk and grog, never seemingly to escape it. This land seemed cursed, far more then the carnage siblings ever could be. Whatever they went, bam, rain! Bam, more rain!

When will it end?

"No way darling," she said to Condor, "it may taste good despite being a freaky one."

Suddenly, wolves. Three of them! Dart craned his head curiously and peered downwards as an equally raucous chorus of voices made theirselves known below him. The first that caught his attention was the angular one with brown points, and the most polite, judging by his words. The other two — darker and lighter respectively — threw their judgements upwards through jagged teeth.

Not that Dart was too offended. Only, he had come to expect these threats from crows, but of wolves? He loosed a laugh that came in the form of a drawn out croak, before fluttering onto a branch slightly closer to the trio. What a strange bunch. Their fur seemed much too short, ears comically large, with eyes in various shades of blood red.

"Ah, three wolves who don't seem much like wolves," he taunted with a mischievous grin and wings spread wide. Two — or four, it seemed — could play at this game. "Poor flightless toads."

It’s just one distraction after the next! Condor just had to butt in with his smart-ass remark. It completely threw them off their game.

Buzzard whipped their head around. Oh, gimme a break! It’s not like it can understand me or anything. Poor guy will never know what hit ‘em! Now, back to the hunt...

...oooor not.

Now Vulture wanted to be a problem. Buzzard appreciates their sister being on their side when it came to the bird’s looks and tastes, but they weren’t happy about the interruption. Buzzard jumped up to yell, but once again they were cut off. By the fucking bird.

Woah, woah, woah! They practically collapsed in the mud. Did I finally lose my marbles, or did that thing just talk? They glanced between the bird and their siblings a dozen times before running up to the tree.

Speak again devil bird!

"then please, darling, enlighten me. how exactly are you going to catch it?" they didn't climb. they ran. not to say it wouldn't be enjoyable to watch vulture fall on her back in the mud.

then it spoke. and, well, the first impressions thing had been meant as a joke, but never mind. it always felt good to be right.

"toads?" condor scoffed. he hadn't maintained this gorgeous a coat to be talked down to by a bird. this thing might have been pretty – for a raven – but it certainly didn't have taste. "you must have me confused with buzzard."

drawing his tongue primly over the back of a paw, he directed a raised eyebrow at the sibling in question as they flattened themselves into the side of the tree. absolutely no sense of poise or dignity at all. "surely you're aware you've been missing them for quite some time."

"Wow, it talked." Deary, they never met a talking meal! How interesting, she thought, "do another trick devil bird!" And coo'd along with her sibling Buzzard, interested if it could do anything else. Speaking was already an eye-popper to them, as Vulture had no idea other species can speak their tongue.

"Wait it called me ugly," toads were ugly, "nevermind kill it," except when it insulted her, calling her something such as that! She no longer had interest and dropped that coy. Now Vulture just wanted to eat it.