by Alex Rey
If the young owlet’s eyes had not been sealed shut, he would have taken sight of a strange, dark place. The wood on the inside of the hollow gave an old and chipped appearance—while the outside bark was just the opposite. This outside layer of bark acted as a shield against the cold, blowing winds which headed their way.
Although they were not aware of it, this large tree was older than many of the parents’ known relatives. For all they knew, this tree probably hadn’t any breath flowing through any speck of its bark.
As the chilling wind blew against Leyoht’s downy fluff, his entire body gave a chronic shiver. A freezing blade seemed to seep into his spine, causing his entire body to grow numb.
It wasn’t as much as the coldness of the wind which made his spine shiver, but it was rather the feeling something was trying to impetuously cause harm. Feeling fear and freezing temperatures surround him, Leyoht pressed as cozily as he could against his mother.
Despite the chilling wind, Leyoht had experienced a peaceful sleep that night. Often when he felt an uncomfortable breeze blow against on his down, he would try to find a comfortable corner in one of his parents’ feathery wings.
--
As the next day drew near, Leyoht could feel his eyes gradually open up for the first time in his short life. He could just barely make out his sleeping parents’ images, their white feathers reflecting into his eyes. Such a sight made him now realize how every sensation, sound, and scent came from an object he had the ability to see with his own two eyes.
Sacrificing much of the strength contained in his legs, Leyoht slowly picked himself up away from his parents. Letting out a small grunt of weariness, his bent jet-black legs continued to straighten until Leyoht began to feel giddiness swell up in his head. At the same time did he realize how his legs had straightened up completely.
In his success, Leyoht found himself falling backwards toward his mother’s chest. Thankfully, the only thing she had done in response to this disturbance was turn her head in the opposite direction from where Leyoht had ran into her.
Trying to rebalance himself back on his feet, Leyoht pressed his tiny head against his mother’s wing while he strained the muscles in his ankles. He attempted to lean forward on his feet, only to find himself falling on his chest as a result of pushing himself too far forward.
Panting in great weariness, Leyoht used his weak down-covered wings to push himself from the floor of the hollow. Once back on his feet, he lifted his left leg from the floor, feeling an imbalance in his posture. Such a sensation caused a spark of fear to ignite in his mind.
Just when the little owlet was on the brink of falling over on the floor once again, he swiftly rested his left talon to a spot a short distance in front of him. In this awkward position, Leyoht carefully lifted his right leg—another sense of imbalance forming in his head until he placed it even further from where he just was.
His talons spread apart, Leyoht quickly viewed what he had just performed as an enjoyable activity. A smile nearly forming in his beak, he lifted and moved his feet with the effort needed to do so, noticing how the amount of effort required started lessening every time he made the attempt to move forward.
Leyoht’s enjoyment came to a pause when he stopped in his tracks and allowed his weak eyes to take notice of a strange, circular, white light in the faint distance. A spark of wonder suddenly flared within Leyoht’s mind as he began to walk toward it.
Drawing himself nearer to the light, the young owl found himself surprised how he hadn’t yet touched it. There were often points in his seemingly infinite journey where Leyoht would feel disappointment wash over him when he discovered he was nowhere near as close to the light as he had once thought.
Through Leyoht’s long first walk, he soon found the white light having been the only thing clouding his sight. He was astonished to have discovered this sphere of white proved to be even larger than both his parents combined.
Curiosity taking control of his mind, Leyoht lifted his left leg from the ground once again as he drew it toward the light. Strangely, his outstretched leg took absolutely no sensation of a solid surface when he made an attempt to touch what he believed would be a white wall.
Nearly losing his balance, Leyoht took a hop back away from the white light. Now imbalanced in the opposite direction, he quickly found himself falling on his back as he let out a squeak of pain. He soon realized he now had an entirely different predicament for him to surpass.
Making many attempts to pick himself off the floor and onto his feet, Leyoht noticed weariness clawing at him with even more ferocity than what it had shown on his journey to the light in the distance. His body gave many great shifts with the effort to put himself back on his feet again.
To resolve his conflict, Leyoht began to tilt his head backwards, causing it to push against the floor. The muscles in his stomach, legs, and neck gave out all their strength to put him back into his former position. Finding himself high enough to move his wings, the fragile owlet pressed his two wings against the ground. Using less effort to push himself from the ground, Leyoht arduously stumbled back on his feet once again.
Finding himself perfectly balanced, he frightfully brought himself over to the light once more. Leyoht cautiously poked his head toward the light, his tiny eyes noticing there was an even deeper ground below the floor on which he stood.
Peering into the ground, he began to consider the white upon the ground he was seeing was made from the same material as his parents’ feathers. Stretching through what he believed had been feathers were very few slightly thin strands of green.
Giving her body a quick jerk, Sahemawia yawned as her yellow eyes opened up. She gave her eyes a quick series of blinks before turning her head—taking notice of her son near the edge of the hollow’s opening. The sight of such an occurrence caused her body to jolt in awakening almost instantly.
Wondering how such a thing could have happened without her knowledge, Sahemawia gave her neck a stretch before hopping over to Leyoht’s side. “Hello, my little baby!” Sahemawia greeted her son, walking up behind him.
Confused of where these words had drawn forth from, Leyoht slowly turned around—almost tripping over his own feet in the process. Once he had taken sight of his recently-awakened mother, his head tilted upwards to notice her flashing yellow eyes and jet-black beak—both of which remained blurred by his eyes. The sight caused Leyoht to wonder what image he himself resembled.
As she bent her legs to create a focused gaze into her son’s eyes, Leyoht flinched when he felt Sahemawia’s breath brush through his down. At the same time did Sahemawia notice Leyoht’s little wings wrap around her towering leg. In response to Leyoht’s loving hold on her leg, Sahemawia gently allowed he corners of her own wings to gently nuzzle her son.
Allowing her arms to release their grasp on the little owlet, a rush of thanks surged through Sahemawia’s blood. Her thanks formed in the fact that her only son had successfully made it through his first harsh months of life as an egg. Far too often had she witnessed unborn owlets never emerging from their eggs.
Regardless of her thankfulness, a great sense of worry still surrounded Sahemawia’s head. She was well-aware of how many owlets born during winter were likely to find themselves face-to-face with death shortly after birth because they hadn’t received enough warmth. The fear of such a thing happening to Leyoht was just enough to wash her once-present happiness away.
Being such a young owl, Leyoht did not understand such words as winter or death. Although no owlet his age had any sense for vocabulary, each of them could sense what their parents felt deep inside of them. And as far as he was concerned, the thoughts within Sahemawia’s head were thoughts he barely knew existed. As these thoughts flew about in his head, his mother remained by his side, cautiously looking over her son.
Despite his mother’s feelings of fear and remorse, Leyoht managed to remain positive. Throughout the air, Leyoht could sense the wonder and beauty of the world—as muc
h as the severity and malice it could show.
With every breath he took, Leyoht felt as if he had discovered something new about his world. Such a feeling gave him a warming sensation—in addition to a strange, uncomfortable pressure—inside of his chest.
This pressure caused the young owlet to quiver in fear—as if his heart were being pulled downwards from his body. With both the unfamiliar warmth and pressure ever-present, Leyoht felt as uneasy as an ill elder in the midst of a blizzard.
This strange pressure crashed into him on every corner of his body as Leyoht soon found his eyelids too heavy to remain open any longer. Once his eyelids had fully wrapped themselves around his blur-shaded eyes, he began to lean against his mother.
It must have been tiring for him to walk all the way to the other side of the hollow, Sahemawia inferred. She let out a soft sigh as she wrapped her warm feathers around Leyoht and protected the sleeping owlet from the freezing temperatures. Moving by one tiny step at a time, she slowly made her way back to the nest to sleep the night away with Ulpheir and Leyoht.
--
The next thing Leyoht could remember was waking up at midday, his head resting on Sahemawia’s chest. He gave a blink before letting out a yawn. As his eyes opened for the first time in a while, he realized his vision made a great improvement over the night.
For the first time ever, Leyoht’s eyes held enough strength in them for him to see exactly what images his world had to offer. The sight of his parents and home no longer gave him the idea of the world being a land of blurred pictures.
Taking a look down, he noticed two strange and somewhat triangular black figures below him. He peered down at these two little things and noticed they were connected to his body. In slight confusion, he shifted one of his legs upwards and studied it with care. Placing it down, he observed the other one to notice how it was identical to the one he had just placed down on the floor.
After placing both his black legs down to the floor, he strained his back and took a look down to notice his stomach was covered in a strange, dark-gray fluff. Curious at what this fluff was supposed to do, he began to poke his beak into it as a swarm of questions rang through his mind.
Drilling his beak into the fluff, Leyoht wondered what it would have felt like to lie in a pile of this material. He imagined such an experience would have been heavenlier than if he were to wallow in his parents’ feathers.
A faint thumping sound in the distance caused Leyoht’s head to give a great jerk. What could it have possibly been? From what he could understand, this sound was clearly emanating from a place somewhere outside from his home’s walls.
The pounding made a song—or so it had seemed to the young owlet’s ears. A mixture of a million emotions spilled out from the song—which led Leyoht to believe this song involved conflict.
Having before seen, tasted, felt, and heard the world’s wonders, Leyoht wasn’t sure how he would sense the world next. He wondered how there could have possibly been any other way to sense his surroundings, as his little mind had been sucked dry of any possible idea.
This subject was dropped completely when his eye was caught by a strange and beautiful plant. He noticed how this plant contained a series of elegant, violet petals sitting on a green stem—the likes of which seemed to sprout out of a large bush just outside of his home.
He walked over to the beautiful plant and suddenly took sensation of its beautiful scent lingering in his nostrils. Drawing himself closer to the plant, Leyoht realized the plant was releasing an exotic aroma. Once the realization came into mind, he pressed his beak up against the plant’s petals as he inhaled the fragrance.
Sniffing at the plant before him, Leyoht nearly froze when his ears took caught hearing of footsteps thumping one by one through the hollow. The footsteps increased in volume until they came to an abrupt stop. After a moment of silence, a voice greeted him, “Hello, Leyoht!”
Pushing himself away from the plant, Leyoht slowly turned around. “Fa-father?” he asked, wondering whether or not he had spoken the word in the correct manner.
As the sound of this one word penetrated his eardrums, Leyoht’s father placed a dumbfounded expression on his face. After only a heartbeat of silence, he rushed off to his sleeping mate and began shaking her by her shoulder.
Her eyes opening up, Sahemawia groaned, “Wh-what? What’s going on?” She suddenly found herself looking in every possible direction to find what had caused Ulpheir so much stimulation. “Is my baby okay?”
“Leyoht just spoke his first word!” Ulpheir replied, snapping Sahemawia out of her tiredness.
“What?” shrieked Sahemawia, her eyes flicking wide open. “What did he say? What did he say?”
“He said, ‘Father.’” It was then when Ulpheir took notice of his mate stumbling toward her son, curiosity scratching at her mind. He then walked up to Sahemawia side as they both took a look down at Leyoht.
As Leyoht’s yellow eyes met up with his mother’s, he squeaked, “Father.” Their ears vibrating with the sound of his squeak, both of his parents began to huff with laughter at the thought of his confusion.
“I’m mother,” Sahemawia chuckled while Ulpheir continued cry out in hilarity.
Leyoht gave a small blink in response, but no words passed from his beak. Embarrassment from his blunder swelled within him until he shrunk to nearly half his original size.
Noticing how embarrassed their son was, the parents’ laughter came to a stop. It was then when Sahemawia bent down—her gaze meeting up with Leyoht’s viscous eyes—when she calmly told him, “We’re sorry.”
Looking up at his seemingly-blurry mother, Leyoht heard her explain, “We weren’t making fun of you; we were—just thinking of how it would have been if I really was your father.” A pause occurred before Leyoht gave a blink of relief. At the same time did he grow back to his previous volume.
Tilting her body back to where it was before, Sahemawia felt Leyoht’s downy wings wrap around her leg when he exclaimed, “Mother!” A bead of sweat nearly dragged its way down her face as her beak came together in a somewhat relieved smile. A harmless chuckle formed in her stomach when she noticed Leyoht’s beak stretch out in a yawn.
“Come on,” Sahemawia beckoned as she made her way toward the hollow’s nest. “You look as if you’re about to pass out. Why don’t you get some sleep?”
Giving his head a quick jerk toward the nest, Leyoht slowly stumbled over to his mother as Ulpheir stood on the edge of the hollow’s opening. The young owlet had nearly fallen asleep on this short journey, causing his eyelids to unwillingly cloud his sight for nearly half of the way through.
But finally when he found himself a short distance from his destination did Leyoht increase his pace to twice the speed it once. While doing so did he nearly trip over the edge of the nest as he made his way in. When he did come into the nest, however, he found himself falling asleep shortly after crashing into his mother’s chest.
--
As the next day shone its light unto Leyoht’s sealed eyes, the snowy owlet noticed as his body coursed with more energy than ever before. His senses slightly keener than before, Leyoht was able to take hearing of a group of voices as they grew ever-stronger in his ears.
Curious to know where these voices had drawn forth from, the owlet excitedly removed himself from his parents and hopped over to the exit in hopes of taking a look outside of the hollow tree. The images illuminating his eyes proved to him how his surroundings were even greater-spread than he could have imagined.
As his head poked through the hole in his home, Leyoht noticed many owls with feathers containing the same colors as his parents. Taking into mind how the feathers’ color was the same color as the outside ground, it was rather difficult for Leyoht’s young eyes to spot the many owls lingering outside. Compared to his parents’ feathers, however, the feathers on most of the outsider snowies held many spots of a muddy-brown color.
Taking a look down at the ground, he noticed many gre
en plants sticking their way through the snow—which caused a spark of memory to flash in his mind. Upon taking sight of these plants, he began to wonder if they carried the same scent as the purple plant he had before encountered.
His talons curling around the rim of the hollow’s exit, Leyoht peered down at the ground below him. All the while did he make an attempt at inhaling whatever scent these plants may have released into his lungs. His attempt was interrupted when the sound of laughter rang in his ears. With a flick of his gaze did he catch sight of a group of owls—all of which seemed many days older than him.
With further investigation, Leyoht came to realize each of these older owlets had already learned how to fly. At the same time did most of them carry cockier personalities than Leyoht had seen from his parents and voices which brought forth deeper notes than what his own throat could create.
Sighing, the jealous owlet brought his body back into the hollow as the other owls’ voices faded away from his earshot. A sad look befalling his face, he leaned up against one of the hollow’s walls. His moment of anxiety came to an end when he heard his mother’s voice ring through the hollow.
“Leyoht!” Sahemawia called out to her son. “Come here, Leyoht!”
Taking a look toward what lay ahead of him, Leyoht took sight of his mother beckoning him from across the hollow. It was then when he realized Ulpheir wasn’t anywhere in sight; the only person in sight was his anxious mother.
“Wh-where’s father?” Leyoht asked with much difficulty.
After a short pause of silence, Sahemawia replied, “He went to get us something to eat. I just wanted to tell you some stories about what lies outside of this tree— at least until he gets back.”
Excited and slightly confused at the same time, Leyoht rushed up to his mother. As he wobbled over to the nest in which his mother sat, his level of fatigue matched up almost perfectly with his level of excitement.