by Alex Rey
After watching the other owls’ pointless attempts of escape, Pesstian thought his best solution to his dizziness was to relax himself by leaning against the wooden wall resting just behind him. Hopefully I won’t fall in the process.
The sound of young, female laughter suddenly filling his ears, Pesstian turned his head toward what he believed was the source of this laughter—and noticed as Leyai waddled up to him. She seemed to be having just as much trouble with standing straight as everybody else in the room.
As she carefully and gradually waddled her way toward Pesstian, Leyai constantly held her gaze on her talons. The fear of accidentally tripping over her feet ebbed through her head as she constantly told herself, Keep looking down!
Once Leyai finally made her way in front of Pesstian, her gaze quickly switched off from her talons when a loud cackle escaped from her beak. She continued to do so while struggling to meet her gaze up with Pesstian’s stare.
Slightly confused, Pesstian watched as Leyai seemed to struggle for breath and balance. Thoughts of what she was thinking of—which had made this moment so amusing for her—rang out through Pesstian’s mind.
Very gradually, Leyai’s laughter began to fade away when she took a look down at the wooden ground. What is she doing? she could imagine Pesstian thinking. She gave a series of rapid blinks in an attempt to fight back these tears in which her humorous mood had nearly caused her to shed upon.
With one last howl of laughter, Leyai finally met her gaze with Pesstian’s confused stare. As so had been done, she felt as the human vessel gave tilted in the water once again—which only caused another uneven shift to form in her balance. “This is hilarious!” she cackled all the while. Just when her series of laughter had come to another mere pause, Leyai sensed another great shift in the floor beneath her feet.
Such an imbalance caused her to topple toward the wall. It was then when she found the elbow of her right wing coming in contact with the top of Pesstian’s chest.
Pesstian noticed as Leyai’s right elbow pressed up against his chest. All the while did he fight the urge to release a cry of, “Ow!” in response to Leyai’s elbow. Although he had felt this to be a time of anguish, the sound of laughter filled his ears once again.
Turning his head, Pesstian took sight of Leyai’s uninjured body as she lay on the wooden floor. The feel of her feathers tickling Pesstian’s talon caused him to lift his talon from the floor. It was at this moment when he took notice of Leyai’s body—watching as it shook uncontrollably with laughter. Regardless of his current angina, he found himself unable to hold back a round of laughter.
As she picked herself up from the floor, Leyai held her breath, trying to stifle her giggling. Leyai continued to do so as her legs stretched upwards, bringing her head only a short length away from Pesstian’s shoulder. It hadn’t taken long for her to make her way back on feet again. However, she was unable to stand up without having the need to against the wall for support.
To make an easier attempt to meet her gaze into Pesstian’s, Leyai decided to lean against the wall as the shoulder in her left wing. Once completely settled, Leyai bit back a small round of laughter when she softly asked Pesstian, “What do you think the humans are doing up there?”
The question echoing in Pesstian’s head, he began to think of how he could have possibly answered such a remark. I want to tell her the humans are having just as much trouble us. But that would be a lie.
Shrugging, Pesstian concluded, “They’re probably not having as much trouble as the rest of us.” Just as the thought came into mind, Pesstian’s gaze flew toward the ceiling, noticing as ray of moonlight shined into the room. As his sight delved even deeper into the light, he quickly discovered one of the humans on the device had opened the door in the ceiling.
Once the realization had been made of the door’s opening, all of the owls flew their way through the hole in the ceiling, a great sense of freedom flowing through their veins. At the same time, a series of scratches came to rest all over the human’s body as a horde of little owls came flying out.
Ignoring the pain he still contained in his chest, Pesstian gracefully flew out into the open air. The feel of the moon’s white light reflecting upon his eyes, he took sight of a large sea of salty water ripping through the hull humans’ vessel. Although the sensation of the cool breeze brushing between his feathers helped to ease his pain, his peace came to an end when a loud human cry split the air.
Nearly falling out from the starry sky, Pesstian turned his gaze over to the yelling human—noticing a bow equipped in the human’s hand. In the human’s other hand was a strange stick with a tip of metal at its end. Using much care with the tools in his hands, the human slowly placed the stick on a flexible string—the likes of which helped to keep the bow together.
A sense of thanks surged through Pesstian’s blood when as the human’s bow pointed toward another owl. Well-aware of the danger this particular human device could bring, Pesstian sealed his eyes shut as the sound of the flexing string filled his ears. It was a heartbeat after doing so the sound of a great blast of wind came off from the human’s weapon and skyrocketed into his ears.
Feeling as if the deadly stick were being shot straight at him, Pesstian fell from the sky. It was shortly thereafter when his talons screeched and scratched into the floor, causing him to come to a stop.
He watched as the owl’s once live-withholding body dropped suddenly, a wooden shaft sticking out from beneath his wing. Once struck by the human’s weapon the owl quickly found himself plunging deep into the sea below him. A mix of red and blue slowly as the owl made his entrance into the ocean.
After witnessing one of the most horrible displays of killing they had ever seen, almost every one of the little owls’ wings stopped moving as a chilling moment of silence came into play. While most of the owls started wistfully making their way down to the floor, a small fraction of them launched their selves up toward the sky. At the sight of this, the angry human shot another arrow—only to stumble and watch as it barely nicked one of the escaping owls’ feathers.
Another pause of silence came into place before the human slowly turned his head over toward the shuddering owls, watching as they remain encased in darkness once again. Turning around, a loud, angry cry passed from the human’s mouth as he pointed over to the trapdoor with a polished metal in his hand. At this site, a sense of panic swept over Pesstian as he pushed his way behind many of the other little owls.
The sound of many irritated hoots and hisses echoing through the dark room, the human nearly closed the trapdoor—but let it open by just a crack. Unsure of what the human’s next move would be, Pesstian waited in horror as a strange, shuffling noise was heard from the other side of the trapdoor. Mystified, he asked himself, It sounds like they’re panicking up there! What is that human doing?
This question ringing true in his head, Pesstian’s train of thought was interrupted when the sound of a screeching creak filled his ears. Wondering what the human was up to, Pesstian flinched his gaze over toward the trapdoor, to see one of the human’s hands coming through the little crack in the trapdoor’s opening.
Although he had first been frightened by the human’s hand, Pesstian took a sharper and noticed how the hand was clenching around something. What’s he holding? he silently asked himself as he peered at the shadow-covered hand. Just when he had thought he had figured out what the human’s fingers were clutching around, Pesstian noticed as the hand released its grip from whatever it had been holding on to.
Food! Pesstian silently exclaimed. The fear he had once felt in his blood now dissolved away. Little black rodents spilled from a tethered bag, causing the only thing for Pesstian to feel was a great sense of hunger. He felt as it growled throughout the inner depths of his stomach.
Without any warning, the light spreading out from the trapdoor’s little crack disappeared from Pesstian’s sight. At the same time, almost every one of the owls in the room rushed over to the pile
of deceased rodents. Each of these owls shortly came back with mice in their talons.
Although it had taken him a while to push himself through the horde of owls, Pesstian soon found himself face-to-face with the pile of mice. Once he had made his way to the pile, he quickly picked up a plump mouse and placed it into his beak before anybody could have tried to take it. His beak pointing skyward, he chugged the mouse into his stomach— and later sensed his chest expand just after feeling the rodent’s fur bristling against the insides of his gullet.
Feeling a soothing pressure press up against the sides of his stomach, Pesstian let out a sigh of relief. It was at this moment when he began to stride up to the spot where he and Leyai had earlier leaned upon before the human disturbed the owls’ peace.
Thinking of Leyai made Pesstian suddenly remember the question she had earlier asked him about the humans. How do you think the humans are doing up there? he silently repeated the question as a picture of the human came into his head.
As he had recalled, the human didn’t seem to have any trouble staying on his own two feet. Pesstian could not remember any images of the human struggling to balance himself on the floor at all. Had the little owl paid more attention to the human’s feet rather than the weapon itself, he would have known.
While pondering on how the humans walked aboard their vessel, the sound of footsteps vibrated through the wood and into Pesstian’s ears. Even with these footsteps serving as an obvious warning for the approaching human, a jolt of surprise sparked through Pesstian’s blood when another owl’s feathers tickled his skin. Once feeling the feathers, he gave his head a jerk to the left—only to take sight of Leyai standing right next to him once again.
“Oh—hi Leyai,” he greeted upon discovering who it was who had brushed their feathers against him. “What’s going on?”
“Better than last time we met,” Leyai responded through a nearly inaudible giggle. “At least now I’m able to talk to you without laughing—so I can breathe!” In response to Leyai’s exaggeration, Pesstian released a loud hoot of laughter.
“Don’t make it so that I won’t be able to breath,” Pesstian joked in between two short series of laughter. “I just ate!”
After another wave of laughter came into place; a pause of silence drew in the conversation just before Leyai asked, “Oh—I forgot! Did you figure out how well the humans can stand up on this thing?”
A moment of hesitation split the air at that moment. Oh—I forgot! Pesstian silently exclaimed before he confessed in response, “I—I really don’t know. I was too startled by that one owl’s death that I wasn’t able to see what the humans were doing.”
Chuckling, Leyai turned her gaze into Pesstian’s disappointed stare when she whispered, “You won’t believe this—but—they actually do have trouble on this device. I couldn’t believe it at all!”
A startled look spreading on his face, Pesstian found himself nearly dumbfounded when he asked, “I knew that we had a lot of troubles on this device, but why would the humans make something that they can barely even walk on?”
“I don’t know,” Leyai replied with a shrug. “The humans have always seemed strange to me, but I never—” Without any warning, Leyai was interrupted by the group of humans as they stood above her, gradually creaking the door open.
As two moaning humans opened the trapdoor, the owls were mystified with how the humans hadn’t any food to offer—even though they had just been fed. Once they had taken sight of the humans, they noticed as the invaders almost immediately pushed themselves away from the trapdoor, leaving it wide open all the while. Confused, a wave of murmuring passed between the little owls.
“What’s going on?” Pesstian whispered to himself in question.
Thinking the question had been meant for her, Leyai nervously responded, “I don’t know—but I don’t think we’re going to like it.” It was at this moment when every feather in Leyai’s body began to quiver and press up against Pesstian.
Continuing to shake, a large part of Leyai mind screamed at her, Your fate will soon become that of the swimming owl’s. While this part of her only helped to ring a bell of fear through the walls of her head, another part of Leyai told her she was to rise up against the humans.
As she struggled to decide which side of her mind she should have listened to, Leyai gave her eyes a tight close while fighting back tears. Trying not to seem emotional—or even weak—in Pesstian’s presence, Leyai twisted her head in the direction opposite from him.
Even with her body literally shaking and flowing with fear, Leyai opened her eyes just a slit. With time did her eyes open wide—with time did her head point toward her body ceasing to shake. Feeling her fear easier to control than it had been a moment ago, Leyai violently shook her head and blinked.
As her talons shook, each of her claws dug into the wooden floor. Although she had taken little notice, the majority of the rushing in her blood came from a sense of anger—rather than fear. It was only after opening her wide eyes when the whole of her fear was replaced with anger and contempt for the humans.
Taking notice as his friend pushed herself away from him, Pesstian confusedly asked through a whisper, “Leyai! What are you doing?”
The words echoing in her head, Leyai didn’t even dare to pause in response to Pesstian’s question; she hadn’t taken any acknowledgement at all. Without a single word, Leyai lifted her wings into the air and flew up through the hole in the ceiling.
Landing upon the top floor of the humans’ oceanic device, Leyai constantly repeated to herself, I can fight against the humans! They’re nothing without their special equipment!
The dangerous little owl expected the humans who had opened the trapdoor to have been on the same floor that she had just flown up to. Much to her confusion, there hadn’t been any trace of the humans anywhere.
Worried for Leyai’s sake, Pesstian hovered his head up over the ceiling’s hole and stealthily gripped his talons around the edge of the trapdoor. She has no idea what she’s getting herself into, he silently sighed. As do I. Upon successfully doing so did Pesstian quickly flap his way behind a large pole—hoping to safely see what Leyai was up to from a distance.
Aware of how rude he might have seemed for invading Leyai’s privacy, Pesstian gave his body a quick shudder before Leyai could have noticed anything. Thoughts of worry entering his mind, a sense of guilt ebbed through his head, urging him to head back into the room.
However, before he received the chance to take so much as a single step, a shock of confusion sprang through his mind when he asked himself, Where are the humans? It was only a heartbeat after silently asking himself this question when he noticed as Leyai asked herself the very same thing through a murmur. As such a noise rang in his ears, Pesstian noticed as Leyai curiously hopped her way across the floor.
All fear of losing his life beneath the human’s grasp suddenly faded away as Pesstian came away from the pole and softly asked, “Where do they think they went?”
Paying no heed to Pesstian’s words, Leyai drew her gaze toward a strange, transparent human fabric attached to the doors of a small room. Behind this fabric came a strange light; she noticed as its shades of yellow and orange penetrated her tear-brimmed eyes—almost like a flame. Unsure of what this flame could have been doing in the room, Leyai nervously asked her friend, “Pesstian—are the humans dying?”
“What do you mean?” Pesstian asked hesitantly while brushing up next to Leyai. “What makes you say they’re dying?” he wondered as he turned his gaze toward the orange light. It was only a heartbeat after looking through the transparent fabric when he shared the same thoughts as Leyai.
His heart leaping out and about in his chest, Pesstian flapped his way toward the doors as he peered through the transparent fabric. His talons clutching onto the rim surrounded by fabric, a sigh of relief escaped from his beak. The humans are alright! Confusingly enough, however, the humans inside the room had paid no heed to the fire—as if they had meant
for it to be there.
Peering even further into the room, Pesstian noticed as of one of the humans caught sight of him. Such an incident found himself far too dumbfounded to move so much as a single muscle. Much to the little owl’s surprise, the human simply gave a small gesture of his hand while—at the same time—allowing a smile to sprout between his lips.
This sight splashing into his eyes, a wave of questions flared in Pesstian’s mind as he jumped away from the doors. The human looked at me—and he’s not going to do anything about me being here? Then why did that other human—?
As he slowly floated down to the ground, the words, “What happened?” sprouted from Leyai’s beak. Shaking lightly, Pesstian found himself unable to immediately respond to Leyai’s question. It looked at me!
Growing impatient, Leyai repeated, “What happened?”
Pesstian slowly turned his gaze toward his repetitious friend as he pointed toward the two large doors. Trembling slightly, he responded, “It smiled at me!”
“So they’re okay?” Leyai asked with a small sneer forming in her voice. A pause of silence filling the air, she decided to break the eerie silence when she asked, “And what do you mean ‘it smiled’ at you?”
“It didn’t even attack me,” Pesstian muttered, his blood growing slightly warmer. “The humans in there were fine—and they didn’t even mind that I was there.”
“Wait,” Leyai began as she put a confused look on her face. “The humans aren’t dead, they saw you watching them, and they didn’t do anything?”
“All they did was look at me. Well—at least one of them looked at me!”
“Why wouldn’t they do something about us if they knew that we were out and about?”
Sighing, Pesstian attempted to think of whatever the reason should have been for the humans not doing anything to bring the owls’ presence to an end. While thinking of such a reason, images of the little owl falling into the ocean clouded his eyes once more.
When the other owl was killed, he silently reminded himself, the human was very angry at all of us. A pause of inaction disrupting his train of thought, Pesstian remembered how he and the other owls placed a series of scratches upon the human’s skin. If that happened to me, I would be angry, too, Pesstian thought with a chuckle.