by Alex Rey
Almost complete and utter silence came between the two young owls as Leyoht glanced at his body with a perplexing and astounded expression crossing his face.
“Why do I look like this?” Leyoht exclaimed. It was before continuing, however, when a smile showed itself upon his face. For the time he had spent since he had fallen into the clutches of the wintry outdoors.
I can’t believe this, he thought with a burst of emotion. I’ll be ready to fly today!
“So—you don’t normally look like this?” Biaulae wondered.
Even as she stood outside the tree, the conversation shared between Biaulae and Leyoht plummeted into Aphost’s ears. Fraught with curiosity for what Leyoht and Biaulae were speaking of, Aphost decided to meet up with the children. It was upon doing making poking her head into the hollow when her eyes locked on Leyoht’s shiny black pelt.
At first had astonishment swept its hazy cloud over Aphost’s eyes. Following this astonishment was a spark of confusion. Wasn’t he white last night? she ominously wondered. Or was I just seeing things?
Allowing a shrug to surpass her shoulders, Aphost slid her entire body into the hollow. In an attempt to mingle with the two children, she cheerfully exclaimed “Leyoht! You’re looking fine today—” As if she were given the ability to read minds by an all-powerful deity, she continued, “looks like you’re ready to fly.”
A nervous bead of sweat dripped down the side of Leyoht’s head as these words penetrated his ears. Before he could have responded to Aphost’s words, however, the young mother had already swept her way out into the free, open world.
The sight of Aphost’s fully-fledged wings caused a spark of envy to light up in Leyoht’s mind. This envy nearly caused him to jump out toward Aphost and make a desperate attempt to follow her. He was, however, stopped when Biaulae called out, “Hey—tomorrow I’m learning how to fly.”
In response to the sound of Biaulae’s voice, Leyoht cocked his head toward her and responded through an unenthusiastic voice, “Really?”
“Yup!” Biaulae exclaimed with a shine emanating from her face.
Biaulae’s expression causing a speck of scorn to pop into Leyoht’s mind, Leyoht made an attempt to wash away a small sense of regret from his voice and reply, “So will I.”
“Awesome!” Biaulae chimed. We can practice flying together! This’ll be great!”
Even with his youth blocking his full thinking power, Leyoht was able to draw many similarities between Biaulae and Aphost simply by listening to the way they spoke. He was able to take note of how Biaulae’s mind was set only on his unexpected appearance.
Even though Biaulae seemed to hold the potential to annoy Leyoht multiple times a day, he felt very lucky to finally have a true friend by his side for the first time in days. Such a feeling allowed a comfortably warm feeling to press up against his heart. This sensation nearly caused him to burst into tears of joy.
Before Leyoht could have wept, however, he found himself turning his gaze over to the tree’s opening. It was in this area where he noticed Aphost popping into the tree. Accompanying her was a deceased, limping lemming in her beak.
The sight of lemming caused Leyoht’s stomach to itch with hunger. Although he was unaware of it, saliva began to drip down his beak.
Slightly disgusted, nervous, and amused all at the same time, Aphost responded to Leyoht’s hunger by releasing a small chuckle and tossing him the lemming with a quick swing of her head.
The sight of having fresh food tossed toward him broke the hungry owl out of a small trance. As a result, he hurriedly caught hold of the rodent carcass before its decaying body could have made contact with the hollow’s ground. With the feel of meat coming up against his tongue, Biaulae found it nearly impossible to pry Leyoht’s mind away from his food.
As Biaulae watched her new friend ravenously tear the lemming apart, she nervously asked, “So—where are you even from?”
Just as she had hoped, Leyoht came to a halt in his eating and made a response. “I came from another tree—kinda like this one,” Leyoht replied. It was at this point when Leyoht felt himself breaking down uncontrollably.
The sound of Leyoht’s weeping caused Biaulae to nervously back away from her friend. How Leyoht could have been in so much distress was a perplexing topic—or so it had seemed in Biaulae’s mind. Barely any time had come to pass when Aphost popped in between the two owlets while asking, “What’s going on here?”
Nervous and afraid at the same time, Biaulae responded through a series of stammers, “I—I don’t know! He just started crying for no reason.” Stupid, stupid, she accused herself.
While she expected her mother to falsely snap at her for being dishonest, Biaulae watched as her mother’s confusion washed away almost instantly.
“Oh,” Aphost began. “I know what’s going on.”
“What?” Biaulae asked with a slight tremble in her voice.
As Leyoht continued to weep uncontrollably, Aphost kneeled over to her daughter and whispered, “His parents are dead.”
The sound of these words caused Biaulae’s blood to freeze with shock. “Is all of that really true?” she asked with a voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes,” Aphost responded with a small growl to her voice.
Shocked beyond all belief, Biaulae took a look over at her friend and watched as he placed his face into his wings. It was heart-wrenching to witness Leyoht losing control of his emotions—even if they had just met. Unable to watch Leyoht’s weeping, she decided to make her way outside and leave Aphost to pamper Leyoht back to normal.
Upon making her way outside, took a look up at the white, winter sky and witnessed somebody’s outspread wingspan floating in the air. Simply by staring at this floating object was Biaulae able to tell who this was: her father, Xemson.
Excited for Leyoht to meet Xemson, Biaulae anxiously waited for her father’s feet to touch the ground. I wonder if they’ll get along at all, she thought. Or maybe dad can help him to stop crying.
Barely any time had come to pass when Xemson landed himself almost directly in front of Biaulae. “Hi Dad!”
Barely showing any acknowledgement to her greeting, Xemson flew his way into the hollow and took notice of Leyoht still crying into his wings. Upon making his way into the hollow, he broke Leyoht’s weeping into a pause when he stated, “You must be Leyoht.”
Stifling a sob, Leyoht nodded in response. “H-how do you know who I am?”
“Aphost told me,” he explained while giving a sharp nod toward his mate. “And what’s going on here?”
Slightly nervous, Aphost took a step away from Leyoht and nonchalantly murmured, “Uh—nothing! Nothing’s going on!” Just after these words slipped from her beak, she gave a small wink to Leyoht.
Not amused, Xemson rolled his eyes and allowed a pause to come into the conversation. It was at this moment when Aphost gave her throat a slightly abrupt clearing.
“What?” wondered Xemson.
“Don’t you have something to tell him?” Aphost anxiously sneered.
Another pause came into the conversation as Xemson wondered what his mate could have been talking about. It was after this pause came into play when a spark lit up in his head. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “Now I remember.” These words caused a smile of slight relief to show itself upon Aphost’s face.
“Leyoht,” Xemson began. “I’m going to show you how to fly later.”
As if he were struck by a miracle, Leyoht’s face lit up at the sound of these words. Almost completely forgetting about his anguish and fear, he hopped up in front of Xemson and wondered with a small squeal to his voice, “You will?”
“Why not?” Xemson responded with a small speck of intimidation releasing itself from his voice.
While slightly intimidated by Xemson’s tone, Leyoht couldn’t help but to allow a small, “Yes!” to escape from his beak. I’m finally learning how to fly! Finally! It was at this moment when Biaulae made her way into the hollow—ironicall
y at the exact same time as the time when her father had left.
At this point Biaulae expected to find her friend curling up against her mother. On the contrary, what she had come to see was the exact opposite of what her expectations had brought her to think. Rather than weeping, she took sight of Leyoht about to burst with excitement. Wow, she began to think. My mom’s pretty amazing.
While his daughter took in a shock drawn from what she believed to be her mother’s talents, Xemson stood outside—leaning against the bark of his own sanctuary. It was at this moment when many thoughts flooded his mind; the images in the sky, however, would draw his mind away from these thoughts.
Xemson looked up at the sky as the sun was devoured by a sea of dark, fast-moving clouds. These clouds brought with them a slightly disruptive wind—disruptive enough to cause each one of his feathers to quiver in its presence.
Only a heartbeat had passed when the wind added in a gust of fluttering snow and ice into its body. As a result, Xemson found himself being pummeled by ice.
What is with the weather? he asked himself while covering his face with his wings. Isn’t it supposed to be broad daylight right about now? This thought in mind, he crawled his way into his family’s hollow.
Upon making his way into the hollow, he heard his mate ask him, “What’s going on out there?”
With a grunt, Xemson responded to his mate, “It just started storming.”
“Again?” Aphost wondered with a spark of surprise lighting up her mind. “That’s gotta be the tenth time in two days!”
It was after listening to his mate utter these words when Xemson allowed his many thoughts to clutter his mind once again. Strange how he could have been silent and calm on the outside—yet full of conversation on the inside.
The main topic on Xemson’s mind was one of chaotic and puzzling proportions. With these thoughts in mind, he gave a short grunt. Such thoughts were the following: humans setting up fires in what could be considered forest; and the same humans cutting down trees using objects Xemson had never before seen.
I think I can understand why Leyoht’s no longer living with his parents, Xemson concluded. The humans probably did it—but why? It was while thinking up an answer to this question when Leyoht zipped his way just under Xemson’s beak. The breeze given to Xemson was just enough for him to release a sigh of frustration.
The other side of this story, however, proved to be a side of excitement and frustration.
Unable to wait for Xemson to teach him how to fly, Leyoht brought it upon himself to attempt to teach himself. In order to do so, he ran out into the stormy weather—his wings spread out and flapping. Only a few times did he find himself gaining altitude in this storm’s presence.
Every time Leyoht had gained altitude brought hope and joy to fill his head. Every time he’d gained altitude also brought the fear of touching the ground again. Unfortunately for the young owl, he couldn’t seem to stop touching the ground for more than a heartbeat. As a result, anger and fear began to fill his head.
“Come on!” he grunted every time he found himself losing altitude. Because of his growing frustration, Leyoht unwillingly flapped his wings in a non-rhythmic pattern. His wingbeats only continued to grow worse until his left and right wings no longer flapped at the same corresponding times.
At this point, Leyoht felt as if his wings were starting to do whatever they wanted. He took notice of this and finally gave up on trying to fly on his own—a grunt of frustration escaping from his beak.
Wondering where Leyoht could have been, Biaulae decided to pop her head through her home’s exit and watched as her friend stood in the storm’s path—staring blandly at his own feet. A hint of curiosity caused her to hop over to Leyoht and ask him what was going on.
“Leyoht?” she began. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Leyoht snapped while turning her gaze toward Biaulae. A pause of silence came into play before he looked down at his feet and sighed, “I’m trying to teach myself how to fly—since your dad isn’t helping me.”
“Come on!” Biaulae retorted. “He only just now told you that he was going to teach you how to fly—and you’re already getting impatient?”
A small moan of disapproval for his friend surpassed Leyoht’s beak.
Biaulae quieted down a bit when she perked Leyoht up by continuing, “My dad’s always told me to be patient. You’re not going to get your way with him if you’re not.”
A sigh of agreement toward his friend surpassed Leyoht’s beak.
A moment of silence came between the two young ones before Biaulae wrapped her wings around her shoulders and complained through a clattering beak, “Whoa—c-come on, Leyoht. It’s too cold out here!”
Not showing any response to the storm, Leyoht gave his friend a quick nod just before following her into the tree. Every single footprint Biaulae left behind reminded him of his recently failed attempts to show his face to the sky.
Leyoht continued to look down at his feat as the warmth of the hollow splashed up against his body like the steam from a geyser. It wasn’t until he heard his name, “Leyoht,” uttered by Xemson when he took his gaze away from his feet. Slightly shocked by the sound of his voice, Leyoht's gaze made a flash from his own feet to Xemson's voice.
"I don't think I'm going to be able to teach you how to fly just yet," Xemson explained. "It's just too stormy right now."
Anxiety clinging to his stomach, Leyoht began to panic when he asked, "But you'll be able to teach me today, right?"
"I don't know," Xemson sighed. "All I can say is--that I'm sorry." In an attempt to slip his way out of the conversation before Leyoht could have began to complain, Xemson turned his way toward the hollow's exit--hoping the wind would keep Leyoht away.
Leyoht, however, found himself too dumbfounded to take any recognition toward Xemson's absence. Rather than complain, he stood in one place; all he did was stand. Frustration and fear caused his feet to glue themselves to the messy ground. His blood frozen, the urge to make another attempt to fly violently buzzed in his head.
Coming Leyoht's way was Biaulae, a portion of the snow from the outside storm still melting in the midst of her feathers. It was just before starting a conversation with him when she shook the melted snow from her feathers.
“Hey Leyoht,” she began. “How’re you holding up?”
Leyoht used all his emotional strength to hold back any impatience he’d held within his mind. In the calmest way he could, he asked of Biaulae, “How would you feel if you found out the day you were supposed to learn how to fly was pushed back?”
“What do you mean?”
His blood coming to a boil, Leyoht responded with as much honesty possible, “Your dad says I might not learn how to fly until tomorrow. How would you feel if that same kind of thing happened to you tomorrow?”
“Well,” she hummed to herself, “I guess I would be upset, but I wouldn’t get as mad as—well—you are right now.” On the contrary, Biaulae knew with every bone in her body that this was not true. If such a simulation were to come unto her shoulders, Biaulae was positive she would start acting with even more negativity than Leyoht.
Leyoht began to wish his friend hadn’t uttered these words; he wasn’t able to tell if she were purposely trying to annoy him or if she were trying to give a perfect type of personality to herself. “Just shut up!” he snapped.
Hearing these words, Biaulae found her mind being tossed around a multitude of different emotions. Was she really showing off as much as Leyoht seemed to be implying?
Rather than leave an apology for his friend, Leyoht allowed a sigh to slip through his beak. Why did I have to do that? he resented of himself.
It was just after being yelled at by Leyoht when Biaulae brought herself away from him—fearing she would only get herself yelled by the black owl at once again. As a result, she decided to make her way over to the tree’s exit while asking herself, When are these storms going to end
?
In an attempt to find out exactly how this storm felt, Biaulae stuck one of her wings out into the open air. The result of doing so caused a sensation of tingling proportions to swim throughout her blood. Such a sensation made her feel free—as if she could have glided out in the bustling breeze with the single spreading of her wings.
It was while Biaulae celebrated with a wing sticking out into the outside world when Leyoht sat and thought to himself, My black feathers; are they doing something to me? The thought of his newly-blackened coat brought up thoughts of mystery and shame to swell up within his head.
Oh well, he silently sighed. A moment of mental silence surpassed his mind before he began to think of the only topic his mind seemed to be able to bring up: the topic of flying.
A tingle spread from Leyoht’s head all the way down to his talons. Wherever this tingle could have come from was obvious to him at this point. This sensation mixed in with excitement, anxiety, and disappointment—almost completely taking away the ability to sit still.
Besides being able to take sensation of a cool breeze slamming against his ears, Leyoht found one of the true advantages to flying was the ability to catch his own food. Being able to hunt for his own food with his own talons gave Leyoht the feeling of responsibility—slamming onto his shoulders with the weight of boulders. For what seemed like decades had he longed for this sensation. However, he would never be able to reach out and touch it without first spreading his wings into the air.
Hunting, allowing the incoming breeze to fly past his ears; what could have possibly topped this all off? In Leyoht’s mind the answer was simply put: freedom. Only by flying could Leyoht truly feel free. Only by flying could he escape from the cold grasp his parents’ death had placed upon him. Only by flying could he achieve true freedom in this world of his.
Thoughts of hunting, breezes, and freedom all followed up from flying. But it was after a moment of mental silence when Leyoht’s thoughts converted from the advantages of flying to the techniques of flying.
Leyoht was well aware of how most owls’ feathers functioned—as the case should have been for an owl his age. He was well aware of his feathers’ ability to flap about in the air without making the slightest noise. As far as he was concerned, only the smallest owls were unable to remain silent while flying.