The leaves of fall were beginning to overtake the greenery of summer. On the wind, the sound of distant animals were carried. The forest all around me was beginning it's cycle of winter's slumber. The pools spread throughout the great trees' roots were just beginning to show the season's chill. Overhead, a dowry bird called to its younglings, and the shrieking command was echoed throughout the far-reaching forest these birds called home during the summer months. The moment the last call faded, the forest erupted into a frenzy of flapping wings, young dowry's cries of excitement, and the scurrying of any small animal fearful of the bird's ravenous appetite. Their great migration had begun.

The dowry bird is native to this forest, though at this time of year they all migrated to the west, flying over the vast Treau ocean to roost in a land no human would dare to venture. Even as a hatchling, the birds were able to carry away a small child. As an adult, some were able to pry the very roofs off of houses. Their feathers were a mix of purple and black, sometimes tinted in red after a meal. Gazing into their dark orange eyes would strike fear into even the bravest of hunters. With a wingspan the size of three horses, and talons larger than field scythes, they are the apex predator of this land. With a beak that could swallow a toddler whole, with jagged edges within and a tongue barbed along its length, those captured by these winged demons rarely escape with the body part they had been held by. They were called the Birds of Nightmare, as they descended upon their prey as silently as a dream, then ripped them apart with all the ferocity of the darkest monsters of imagination. 

My name is Leanard Binde and I am here to hunt. Over my shoulder is a bow, it's shaft reaching from behind my ear and nearly to my knees. While I cannot be considered overly tall, I had always remained two finger's widths taller than the children I had grown up with, and was even slightly taller than my twin brother, whom stood twenty paces to my right, his bow strung and ready. 

Hefting my own bow from it's rest, I drew and knocked an arrow, searching for any stray or low-flying bird. The flock was more of a swarm, moving in a cloud of rampant feathers and death-like cries. My mark had to be carefully chosen, and it's death swift, or it's dying screech would alert the mass of danger. With so many hatchlings away from the safety of their nest, the mature birds would instantly begin the search for whatever danger there may be. any and all living creatures they saw would become the victim of their wrath. Both my brother and I would be hunted like prey and then consumed.

Then, I saw it. A flick of purple in the trees before me. Taking care to remain on the great roots of the forest, I gave chase. The bird seemed to be old, perhaps choosing to remain and hunt in these woods for the short time it's life would remain in it's body. Regardless, it was quick, seeming to flit throughout the forest as easily as in it's youth. Unfortunately, I had also spent my life within this forest. While outrunning the terrifying avian was all but impossible, the dowry seemed to be kiting a young Algatha Deer, at times swooping just above the fawn's head. Playing with it's food, perhaps?

After nearly two hundred meters the bird stopped, attempting to spear the young deer in it's flank.

It's horns had yet to grow, and it died with a loud screech. The sight of the kill was magnificent, it's form honed in the decades of hunting the bird carried within its mind. However, I knew that experience could very easily be my death as well. If I did not act quickly, or if the dowry saw me, I knew my fate all too well.

Drawing back the bow to its full length, I let the fletching of my arrow rest on my bottom lip, index and middle finger clasped around the bow's string on either side of the arrow, and my thumb barely resting it's tip in the crease between my jaw and right earlobe. We stood thirty paces apart, it's neck vulnerable as it's two-foot beak dug into the fawn. For just a moment, the world seemed to slow as I took my aim. 

The air grew still, and the thousands of shrieking avians above me became silent. The rustle of great leaves hundreds of feet above me could have been heard in this unnatural quiet. My heartbeat reverberated in my chest, and I released a held breath. Just as my lungs began to empty, and my heart reached a stall in its rhythm, I slowly let my fingers slip from the string they held taunt.

Just as quickly as it arrived, the silence was shattered by the twang of my bow. The shot was aimed at the old bird's neck, about halfway down and slightly forward, it's mark the soft jugular of my prey. The flight lasted only a few seconds, barely long enough for my heart to pump twice. The impact of it's arrival lost in the fevered canopy above us. 

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

As the bird began to fall, only gurgled rasps escaped from it's beak. It landed with only a soft thud, unheard even by itself. Looking up to ensure my kill had not been noticed, I realized that the swarm had thinned significantly. There would be no way I could fell another dowry bird unless it flew to me itself. While this was unfortunate, the old bird would easily weigh more than six lightly armored men, so there would be no shortage of loot to gain from it's corpse. Cautiously approaching my prize, I once more strung an arrow in preparation for any situation it might be required. 

The avian's form was still, the leg of it's final meal hanging loosely out of it's beak. The dark death trickled from both predator and prey into one of the many pools that dotted the forest's ground. It's tongue, barbed along the edges, hung limp on the ground. I have killed several dowry birds before, but this one was by far the oldest. It's feathers seemed frail instead of glossy, and the regular orange of it's species' eyes was instead a pale yellow. Along the wing that faced me, a jagged scar from a battled long won resided. It's leg was easily larger than my waist and arms together, and it's length surpassed my shoulder. If this was the largest dowry bird in the forest, then I am not surprised.

I swept my eyes over the area around me, wary of an ambush from both ground and air. The swarm was now in the distance, likely having broken free of the forest that limited their speed and agility. Placing down my bow, I raised my fingers to my lips and blew three shrill notes. Seconds later, the signal was echoed. My brother, Josef, was safe. 

I released the tension in my shoulders, which always crept into me as I awaited his reply. Even after years of hunting together, I had never once evaded it's grasp. 

Pulling my hunting knife from it's scabbard on my hip, I set to cutting away the feathers on the corpse before me. They had the density of wood, and when plucked could even be used as a weapon. For my family, however, each feather equaled a pound of grain. Months, no, years of toil on farmland could be equaled by a single hunt. While this dowry's feathers were not as glamorous as a younger bird's would be, they would nonetheless gain us enough coin to survive the winter.

As I carefully placed each feather in one of three bags I carried, there was a noise behind me. Before the slight sound could fade, I spun around while swiping my bow from the ground. By the time I had finished the movement, my fingers had found the arrow and drawn it to it's full length, my knife's blade pointing to the ground and it's pommel in my grip.

"Whoa there brother, it's just me!" Said Josef, his hands held out to either side of himself. The half-idiotic grin on his face annoying me far more than the fact he had purposefully startled me.

"Josef, you son of a bitch,next time I'll let the arrow take off your ear!" I say to him as I turn back to my prize. He simply chuckles and begins to circle the kill, whistling as the corpse of the Algatha fawn came into view. 

"I must say Len, you've managed to catch our coin, and supper!" He looked quite happy with his little jest, but I only sighed and pulled another feather from the dowry's flank.

After a few more minutes of annoyance and cutting, another rustling noise echoed from the near quiet forest. Josef was about to say something, but my hand was quickly over his mouth.

Blood. Predator. I gestured to him. Over the years, such small signals had saved our lived more than once. He pointed up, and then clenched his fist.

Vantage. Kill?

I thought over it briefly, then shook my head. I pointed to the corpse of the dowry, then slowly spun my hand in a circle. 

Prize. Protect.

He nodded, and we both turned towards the direction the sound had first come from. After several more seconds, another slight noise carried on the breeze, barely louder than the one before.

However, that still meant that it was getting closer. After four more tense minutes with our bows half strung, something crested the hill. 

Oh...shit.

What we saw was not the head of an animal, but it's horns. With each being around half my height, and about twice as wide, the dull green antlers were more than enough to let us know that papa deer had arrived.

Taking a glance at each other just as the beast's eyes took in the scene before it,  we both nodded, hopped over the dowry, and bolted to the nearest tree. The beast snorted as it's massive hooves tore into the dirt. Each bound it took seemed to increase it's speed, and I thought for a moment that it might simply be my heart beat.

Clentching my fists, I flicked my wrists forward, and the metal guards over the backs of my hands slid over my fingers. Just as Josef and I reached the tree, we each leapt towards it.

By squeezing our hands a bit tighter, the plating of our hand guards shifted up, digging into the dry bark of the giant and allowing us to climb up with somewhat of an admirable pace. The algatha slammed into the base of the tree, even knocking down some of the smaller limbs of the canopy.

They still made a nearly earsplitting boom as the hit the ground nonetheless.