by Alex Rey
Tasting the air surrounding this human, Leyoht felt his tongue tingle with a strange, saline tang. What is that? Feeling himself lose track of what he should have been doing, he gave his head a quick shake to drain out the thoughts.
As Leyoht slowly crept his way around the human’s leg, he found himself surprised how the human had taken literally no realization of his presence. Once a fairly safe distance from this predator, he took sight of Plenot’s family having a peaceful sleep in their nest.
Relieved and alarmed at the same time, Leyoht—with no regard for his own safety—cried out, “Plenot! Wake up!”
Hearing as this loud shriek pierced their ears, Plenot’s entire family woke up with a jolt. At the same time, the human covered his right ear with the same hand he had used to carry the very sharp tool he was to slay Plenot’s family with. After taking a moment to rub his screech-stricken ear, the human angrily turned his gaze on Leyoht—noticing as the snowy owlet’s body trembled.
“Get out of here, Leyoht!” pleaded Plenot as the sound of the human’s breath grew heavier and heavier with frustration. Unfortunately for Leyoht, he found himself frozen among the ice below his feet.
With little warning, the human had wrapped his hands around Leyoht’s tiny body—causing the young owl’s blood to warm up the rest of his body. It was at the very moment of discovering warmth when Leyoht placed a look of both fear and slight confusion on his face. It was also then when he met his gaze up to the human’s eyes. Forgetting all about his heroism, he made an attempt to squirm out of the human’s clutches.
“You’ll never escape from me,” the human whispered while bringing Leyoht closer to his face.
These words sending a shock down his spine, Leyoht blinked twice, thinking he was hallucinating. After discovering the human hadn’t seemed to have been an illusion, Leyoht asked through a trembling voice, “H-how am I underst-standing you?”
In response to such a silly question, the human released a bone-chilling smile, revealing a row of large, snow-white teeth. His warm breath brushing through the feathers on Leyoht’s face, the human released a small chuckle before responding, “I know everything about you, Leyoht.” A small sneer forming upon the human’s face, he watched as Leyoht continued to tremble in fear.
Although he found himself tempted to do so, Leyoht was too awestricken to question the human’s psychological abilities. How does he know so much about me? While his beak remained silent, his mind raged with a storm of unanswerable questions. While his body remain numb beneath the human’s grasp, his head swarmed with wonder.
Losing almost all control of his body, Leyoht stared into the eyes of the human before him. It was at the moment of doing so when the human suddenly crept a clean blade over to Leyoht’s left wing. The chilling touch of the blade alone allowed the young owl to feel his numbness going away.
“Wait! Please don’t!” Leyoht pleaded, trying to squirm out from the human’s grip. As his legs kicked around and about in the open air, Leyoht’s felt as his entire body came to a pause.
A broken spine breaking his consciousness, frozen skin breaking his concentration, Leyoht felt as the human’s cold blade slowly dig into his wing.
From far away did Plenot witness Leyoht’s despair. I have to get out of here! Watching as the piercing blade delved deeper and deeper into his friend’s skin, Plenot hopped out of his nest—after which did he lead himself away from the chaos before him.
Feeling the human’s sharp blade pierced deeper and deeper into his skin, Leyoht’s opened his beak wide, urging for a shriek to sprout from his lung—only to find not a single sound had come out. What’s happening to me? he wondered, panicking to find the answer.
It was then when he realized, The pain—it’s too much for me to scream. I can’t do anything; I’m in too deep!
Upon discovering the futility of crying for help, Leyoht switched his gaze toward the human’s vivid, green eyes. Hoping to confront the human, the young owl noticed as he grew dizzier and dizzier with every passing heartbeat—all the while slowly forgetting about his pain.
His eyelids growing heavy, Leyoht cast a downward gaze, taking notice of how a large amount of the snow just below him withheld puddles of red mixed in with minute spots of white. Fearing the sight of the reddened snow would be his last, Leyoht struggled to keep his tired eyes open—eventually failing in the end.
It was after closing his eyes when the bleeding owlet felt himself grow lighter, a shield of numbness surrounding the entirety of his body. Only a heartbeat came to pass when a shock of surprise sparked up through his blood.
Within a moment’s notice, Leyoht’s lack of weight and numbness made an exodus from his body. At the same time did his stomach gave an enormous lurch of fear—the likes of which had come to an end when an immense amount of pressure was placed around the snowy owl.
What’s happening? Leyoht silently asked himself. It was while asking himself this question when he discovered he hadn’t any control over his body—if such a thing he had even possessed anymore. Sensing a pang of fear and irritation stabbing through his heart, he made a futile attempt to release a fearsome howl. But not a single noise came out.
Leyoht’s mind gave a sudden leap when he heard a female voice calling his name. “Leyoht—Leyoht are you okay?” the eerie voice called out.
--
At the sound of this strange voice, Leyoht took notice of a strange sensation emanating just below where his eyes should have been. It then when—in total confusion—he found himself sitting in his own hollow, his mother standing idly by.
Once Leyoht had taken sight of his mother, he listened as she asked, “Why are you crying?”
Slightly confused with his mother’s question, asked himself, What’s she talking about?
Hoping to find the answer, Leyoht touched the feathers beneath his eye with a wing. Removing his wing from the bottom of his eye, Leyoht took a glance at it—to realize it had been partially soaked in tears. It was a—dream? he silently asked himself.
Shortly after asking himself this question, Leyoht took a look up into his mother’s eyes while allowing her lovely stare to erase his troubles away. As their gazes locked on to each other, Leyoht nervously responded, “I just had a dream that strange-looking humans came to our tree, cut it down, and—and killed us!”
Hearing as these last two words pounded against her eardrums, Sahemawia attempted to hush Leyoht down when she murmured, “Don’t worry, Leyoht; it was only a dream. But what you’re seeing now isn’t a dream at all.” Taking a deep breath, she continued, “And I have to tell you that I have big news!”
Noticing as his mother hopped up on her feet, a look of surprise crossed Leyoht’s face when he asked, “What is it?”
Releasing some of her excitement away through a small sigh, Sahemawia allowed a small moment of silence to slip into place. Breaking the silence, she murmured to her son, “Leyoht—do you know how you came to this world?”
These words vibrating in his ears, a maelstrom of thoughts started off in Leyoht’s young mind. What does she mean?
After taking a moment to think about it, Leyoht realized how the question for why he was put on Earth was definitely a most mystifying question. Even then, he had never before even thought about such a topic.
After taking his time on pondering such a question, Leyoht finally shook his head in response. Watching as his mother let a small chuckle pass through her beak, Leyoht listened tentatively to whatever it was she was about to say.
Once the small moment of laughter had come to an end, Sahemawia beckoned Leyoht in her direction when she commanded, “Come here.”
Although the words were spoken loudly and clearly, it had taken a while for Leyoht to make any response to them. The only thing he could have done for the next heartbeat and a half was silently ask himself what Sahemawia was going to do with him.
Unfortunately for Leyoht, it hadn’t taken very long for Sahemawia’s patience to give a slight decrease. “Come on!�
�� she beckoned once again.
Shaken by these words, Leyoht allowed a hop to slip from underneath his feet while attempting to move toward his mother. At the same time, the two words, “I’m coming,” sprang out from his beak.
I wonder what she has back there, he thought to himself. Is it something for me? What did she do? Leyoht was unsure if either of his questions were to be answered.
Leyoht found himself slightly confused when the sight of a second nest—which he noticed resting on the side of the hollow—clouded his vision. How this little nest could have come here overnight was beyond him. However, the most astonishing characteristic about the nest was how the nest was cradling what appeared to be a white, round rock.
Before he could have asked anything about the nest, Sahemawia interrupted his thoughts when she explained, “That’s where you came from.”
“I came from that rock?” Leyoht sneered in disbelief.
“It’s not really a rock. That white thing in the nest is called an egg—and you came out of one of them a while ago.”
“Are you saying that somebody’s in that rock. I mean—egg?”
“Not exactly,” Sahemawia corrected. “Nobody’s in that egg right now, but there will soon come a day when somebody will come out.”
“But how did they get there in the first place?” Leyoht wondered.
In response to this difficult question, Sahemawia hesitated on her answer. It was after releasing a shaky sigh when she responded, “I guess they slowly grow when they’re in the egg. All I know is that they somehow go from being a collection of gunk into an owlet—I’m just not sure how.”
“How do you know what’s in there?” Leyoht asked as he turned his gaze toward the peaceful egg. Sending a shock of fear to rush through his mother’s spine, Leyoht hurriedly swept his way over to the egg to a point where his beak was barely any distance from the egg at all.
“Don’t touch it!” Sahemawia demanded through a snap.
These three words sparking a sudden sense of fear in Leyoht’s stomach, he quickly turned his flexible neck far enough for his beak to point toward his mother. Blinking back a small array of apprehensive tears, Leyoht forced an inappropriate response to slide up his throat when he asked, “What’s going to happen if I do touch it?”
Her throat tightening, Sahemawia sighed yet again before responding, “Okay—you can touch it. But just make sure that you don’t hurt the egg. The reason I know how there’s a lot of gunk in the eggs is because—well—I’ve accidentally dropped some of them before. If they’re dropped, then the egg will break and the person who was inside the egg will die. So just promise me that you won’t peck at the egg—or anything like that!”
Giving a quick nod, Leyoht responded, “Okay!” Turned his gaze toward the white egg Leyoht felt as another question buzzed through the back of his mind. Unable to handle himself he blurted out, “How did the egg get there?”
A shock of surprise and slight fury rushing through Sahemawia’s blood when she quickly realized no such question could have been directly answered to somebody of Leyoht’s youth.
After allowing a pause of hesitation to take place, Sahemawia explained, “Your father and I both made the egg and placed it there. To be honest, the egg recently came out of my body, and I left it there.” Before a single word could escape from Leyoht’s beak, she curtly continued, “And that’s all I’ll tell you for now.”
A small sense of disappointment bouncing within his head, Leyoht found himself struggling at holding his tongue once again. Fortunately for him, it hadn’t taken long for the question to slip away from his curious mind.
As Sahemawia brought herself to sit upon the egg, a spark of surprise flared up within her heart when she heard Leyoht ask, “Did you come from one of those eggs?”
How many questions is he going to ask in one day? After letting another small pause pass, Sahemawia finally answered, “Yes.” A sense of delight filling her head, she continued “And soon you will have a young sibling. Pretty soon your new brother or sister will hatch out of the egg! I’m just know you’ll have so much fun together!”
A look of surprise and slight horror showed on Leyoht face when a hurricane of thoughts flew through his mind. It was at the same time when he silently asked himself how he should have felt. Good or bad?
--
A chilling wind brushed its way through the human’s vessel—causing a fraction of the little owls to shift in their sleep. Among them was Pesstian.
Unused to the recent temperature changes, Pesstian struggled to keep himself from moving over to a different spot. Doing so would have spent a large amount of his energy—which he needed to store for the next night. I just have to ignore it, he anxiously demanded of himself.
Echoing inside his head, these words spun down an endless loop. Although he hoped doing so would push away the urge to move from where he was, such attempt had only made matters worse. Six words and nothing more bounced through his head—but his struggle would only increase.
Before releasing his anger in a howl, the chilled little owl irritably flicked his two yellow, burning eyes open. Once he had done so, he swiftly removed his body away from the wall in which he had just rested upon. Ensuring he wouldn’t wake anybody else up, Pesstian furtively crept beneath the trapdoor.
A pause of hesitation came into place when he asked himself, Should I do it? Or should I just go back to sleep? Pesstian’s current plan was to bolt his way through the trapdoor by creating a powerful gust of wind with his wings. But will it even work?
To a passerby in the distance, it would seem as if Pesstian were simply taking a look at the wall. Pesstian could only imagine how stupid this looked.
Although it had taken a long time of fighting between both sides of his own consciousness, Pesstian came to his conclusion when yet another cool breeze swept through his feathers. I’m going to see what’s going on. This bold statement penetrating the walls of his head, he placed himself in a crouch, readying himself to give his wings a great flap.
Only a heartbeat had come to pass when Pesstian shot upwards toward the trapdoor. At the same time, his heart gave an enormous leap—his talons twitched with excitement and slight fear. This twitching only lasted a heartbeat, coming to its end when his head came in contact with the trapdoor.
Feeling as the door left a bump on the top of his head, Pesstian allowed a thumping noise to fill the room. As so had been done, over half of the sleeping owls almost immediately woke up. But at least now the ceiling’s door was open.
For only a moment had Pesstian found himself launching upwards into the free air. Such a moment came to an end when his feet hit the very in which the humans usually walked upon. He then took a quick look at the sky—only to stare into what appeared a very dark gray.
What’s going on? Isn’t it day right now? It at least should be. Otherwise I wouldn’t be so tired—right?
While minding his thoughts, the weary owl found himself being threatened by one of the humans onboard. Much like the case of the owl who had earlier been killed by the humans, a tall human pointed his strange, wooden weapons directly at Pesstian’s head.
As the sight of this human steamed into the little owl’s eyes, Pesstian felt as every single drop of his blood spiked through his veins. Fortunately for the frightened owl, he was able to place himself out of the reach of this weapon when he hurriedly swept his way back into the room—back into the room with the other little owls.
It was almost immediately after making his way into the room when Pesstian took a look back at the human. Fearing for the worst, he watched as the human tossed his weapon aside and walked over to the trapdoor.
Please don’t hurt me! Although Pesstian expected the human to climb into the room, the only action the human had taken was the action of closing and locking the trapdoor in a secure position. And once again the room quieted.
A large huff of relief escaped from Pesstian’s beak when he silently exclaimed, That was too close! Ignoring whatev
er the surrounding owls may have been doing, he slowly crept his way over to a spot in the room where he could rest his weary head for the rest of the day. Is it day? Pesstian wondered once again.
The curious owl’s eyes refused to close—not until he found the answer to his questions. His most common way to solve problems while tired was simply to ponder about them with closed eyes. Such a method always seemed a helpful method when it came to thinking when he should have been asleep.
Why is it so cold around here? Pesstian silently asked himself. Has winter started already? Although his images of outside were vague, he could remember the sky holding many clusters of thick, gray clouds. He could remember as these clouds remained ever-present in the air; he could remember feeling even chillier on the outside of the room than he had when he was on the inside.
Once again, Pesstian curiously asked himself, Is it day? Or night? With the gray color emanating upon the sky’s skin wearing heavily on his thoughts, it was difficult for him to tell which time of day it should have been. In frustration, Pesstian violently shook his head.
Feeling slightly dizzy from the shaking, Pesstian attempted to assure himself, No—it can’t be night already! If it were, then I wouldn’t be so tired right now. A pause made its way into the silent conversation. All was silent except for the echo of these few words as they bounced upon the walls of Pesstian’s head. Such a mental sensation had caused him to feel the small pain of irritation as it teased him from the back of his head.
Wanting to relieve himself of this mental pain, the exhausted owl silently suggested to himself, I’ll think about it when I wake up. Maybe it’ll be easier for me to figure out what’s going on out there.
It was then when Pesstian gave a slight struggle to remain true to his own words. A small argument occurred before he would finally come at peace with himself.
--
Although his sleep hadn’t lasted very long, Pesstian sensed a small rush of joy light up within his stomach when the sound of creaking woke him up. Hearing as such a horrific noise split their ears, he and many other owls started yawning.