just to burn it back down [story!]

[Mumble]

This is just a quick little story I decided to start, flex my creative wings and all that. Standard deal: based off WEO, characters are hawks, etc. etc. :'D I'm aware that there's another hawk story, but this one's storyline is completely different and it wouldn't've worked as well with cardinals or condors. (Plus, condors are taken too now, I think.) I apologize. It'll get a little bit dark later on, but the first few chapters will be pretty lighthearted and there won't be too many characters to keep track of. Enjoy! Please tell me what you think of it and if people seem to like it, I'll definitely continue. Eyasse(s) = chicks. Speech is bolded and color-coded for ease of reading. Yes, it's long, my writing style is kind of... like that. DX

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you don't move unless you know someone you can move,
—>It all started with a pine tree.
—>Gosthorne circled it again, keen eyes surveying each forked, fingerlike branch. A year and a half ago, he had left his parents' nest. He'd had a very successful childhood, with only one nestmate and plenty of food coming in all the time. He hadn't seen his father much after the first week, but his mother had been a very good hunter and had done a great job of feeding and teaching her eyasses. There had been no melodramatic nonsense when the time had come for them to leave the nest. He and his brother had lingered around one another for six months or so, but instinct ushered them toward finding a mate and they'd gone their separate ways. He was recalling the nest site now, looking for the best place to start compiling sticks and mud for the mating season.
—>It was truly a good area to settle down in. This towering conifer was stationed alongside a creek that bubbled down from the mountains, full of fish ripe for the picking. It led to a series of small waterfalls, swelling until it emptied into the lake Gosthorne had been raised by. The land sloped gently and a rolling meadow was positioned just to the southeast. By his reckoning, it would be warm enough by spring and wind wouldn't be too much of a problem. The air was rank with autumn, even to a hawk's underdeveloped sense of smell. It had been quite the hot summer and it was only just threatening to get chillier. Mice and rabbits were retreating into their holes, collecting seeds and straw in preparation for the long winter ahead. But they were definitely there. Gosthorne could catch sight of a scuttling rodent from miles away, but he hardly had to search to find a flicker of movement here or a disappearing tail there. Food would be of no concern come spring. He felt pleased with himself just thinking of how easy it would be to feed himself and, if he proved lucky this season, his chicks.
—>Trees were sparing around here. There were another couple of smaller ones off to the other side of the stream, but instinct dictated that Gosthorne be a strict critic; ideally, a nest was at least a hundred feet above the ground, and these didn't look like they were more than ninety at their highest points. They were safer from wind, should that be an issue in winter, but he doubted that it would get too drafty for a nest either way. No, this pine was the one. He just had to pick the right fork and he'd be all set to start building. The hawk outstretched his talons, fanned his wings, and landed neatly on one of the taller branches. He eyed the branches below, forming a mental list of his options, crossing some out, adding more, crossing them out again. The one he chose had to meet all the criterion. One couldn't be too picky when it came to nests. Leaving boxes unticked led to dead hatchlings. He took off again, unimpressed. None of the choices on that side of the tree were quite good enough, he'd best go and check—
—>"Rrrr! Filthy condors, now look at what those vultures have gone and done, this is going to take weeks to tidy up again..."
—>He turned his head in midair, nearly forgetting to flap his wings in his surprise. The voice was feminine, and very speedily-spoken, but it had a rough tone to it and cracked frequently. Hawk. Definitely another hawk. Whether she was also a red-tail remained to be seen. He angled his wings, fixing on the source of the voice, and found himself staring at easily the best nesting site on this tree he'd seen so far. Very high up, but not so much that the branch was unstable or too flexible; wide fork, perfect for building a nest in; excellent view of the creek; not too many pine needles. He landed on the branch, clicking in his throat with approval, and glanced at the female. Creamy chest feathers, dull brown elsewhere with a black dusting, red-brown eyes, a bit larger than he was despite being maybe a few months younger... yes, she was a red-tail. He folded his wings. "Good afternoon, miss. Can I help you?"
—>She glared a little bit, feathers ruffled. He could tell this hostility was not directed at him. "Happen to know how to kill something four times your size? Look, look. I had this nest beautiful, completely beautiful, and they broke it!" He followed her gaze. Closer examination told him there had been a nest there—mud and twigs stuck to the branches, and there was still a "skeleton" of bigger sticks hanging from the fork.
—>"Miss, were I a condor that wanted this nest gone, I would not have left the framework intact." He tentatively prodded the interlacing web of remaining sticks with a talon. It fell apart immediately, leaving a hole in the "nest". The female's eyes narrowed; her feathers ruffled out even more. "When did you start building this?"
—>"Spring, of course. Late spring. Can never be too prepared," she huffed. "Would have lasted 'till the season if a condor hadn't gotten into it, too. They nest in the cliffs, you know. Come down to pick at our rightfully-earned meat. They scavenge."
—>Gosthorne held back a laugh and decided to ignore her condor-ranting. He wasn't all too familiar with the huge, black-and-white birds, but the two species generally left well enough alone. Occasionally, during famine, they squabbled over decaying carcasses, but under normal conditions hawks ate freshly-killed meat. "Finish it any time short of early winter and it'll rot, girl. That's what my mother told me, anyway."
—>"Rot?" A blank, puzzled look came to her eyes. This was a look Gosthorne would become very, very familiar with.
—>"Fall apart, just as this one's done. You'll need to start all over, I'm afraid. That frame won't hold much of anything together in this condition." He hesitated. This was just too perfect—maybe he wouldn't have to go fishing for a young female this season after all—she didn't seem to have a mate despite having built her nest so ridiculously early—maybe she had a few screws loose, but he could work on that—"Ma'am, what d'you say I lend a wing getting this back in working order? I was just about to look for a site on this tree m'self and maybe we could... help eachother out a little... maybe."
—>She eyed him warily.
—>"I'm Gosthorne, like jaws-thorn but with a 'g'."
—>More suspicious silence.
—>"Aw, c'mon, work with me a little."
—>"Xurrintha."
—>"Theeeeere we go. Comin' out of your cage and you're doing just fine! Now I'll work on tearing this thing apart and you go find some twigs down below. That's it, gorgeous, spread those wings, and don't be too long stick-hunting or I'll get a little worried."

[SouthernStar]

Nice story, but the font hurts my eyes e.e

But still a nice story ;)

[Mumble]

The color or the size? xD; I can see why it would, wish you could change the font on these forums. x_x

[SouthernStar]

Oh, sorry, I meant the size of the font, I have to squint my eyes and it can hurt if I do it for too long xD

[Hope]

Loved it so much! Are you going to continue because it would be awesome if you did!

[Mumble]

@South: Oh, I see. I'll go change it to normal size if you want. I made it smaller to reduce clutter, seeing as it's so... long.
@Silly: Aw, thanks! Yeah, I'll work on the second chapter later today or tomorrow. You can expect to see it up by Friday. ;3

[Hope]

Yay! Thank you, it's a awesome story , but you know what would make it better? If there was a flood or tornado or something like that, a natural disastar or animal attack, HUNTERS!

[Mumble]

Psh. Barely anything has even happened yet. Trust me, I have some excitement planned. ^^;

[Lady]

I like this story. c: Great job, Mumble! ^^