The morning brought cold wind and clouds with it, an uncomfortable drizzle turning everything wet.
Grouchy, Rethia flew down to the next patch of forest to fill her pouches with wild vegetables and berries. A whole heap of cherries went straight into an empty belt pouch, just in case.
More careful than during the first three days, she continued her journey.
The run-in with the wyverns was a terrifying reminder that the sky wasn’t as empty as she grown used to. Raptors of all sizes equally called it their home and hunting grounds. And the mountain that grew out of her plateau offered plenty of roosting spots for them, if they couldn’t find something on the cliff walls.
Thankfully, they didn’t like flying in rain either. Seeing a rare giant eagle circling in the distance was all the excitement for two whole rainy days.
It’s been 5 days already. Shouldn’t I be seeing the village again soon? And where are the Red Falls? They mark the halfway point. I must have missed them while fleeing from the wyverns. Well… if I don’t see the village this evening, then I’ll have to hunt. The dried jerky is nearly finished and only eating fruits won’t give me enough strength for a whole day of flying.
Five days. The dried jerky provided by the flock at the beginning of her First Flight had held for five days, carefully rationed and supplemented with whatever fruits and veggies she could find growing. She missed eating hot soup and grilled meat.
Scanning the area, nothing looked familiar. Not the tapestry of forests and fields, dotted with lone villages and woven together with bands silver rivers. Nor the trees growing on the plateau, which should’ve been bamboo but wasn’t.
Let’s not lie to myself. I’m not anywhere near home.
Sighing heavily, she looked closely at the ground, searching for her dinner. Rabbits hopped through the high grass of the plains. A herd of wild horses thundered in the distance. Falcons soared, in search of their own meal.
Rethia shook her head. The horses were too far away, and the rabbits were too small. A deer, or maybe a boar would be a good size. She could feast on them for both dinner and breakfast, and pack a few grilled stripes.
Or one of those buffaloes that passed right below her.
Hm… which one? That one is too big, I can’t kill it with one strike. That one, too, huh. Are there only large ones? No, there is a calf. But it’s in the middle of the herd. If I go for it, the herd will trample me! Then around the edges of the herd. Something slow and old. It will taste nasty, yes, but better than nothing, right?
She settled for an old bull that was slower than the rest of the herd. Gulping, she adjusted her position, staring at the buffalo. This would be her first large kill, after only hunting rabbits during training.
Deep breaths. There is nothing to it. Just… do it the same as during training. A nosedive, a quick break, grabbing its neck with my talons and waiting until it bleeds out. Or breaks its neck from flailing around to much. Really, its so simple. I just wish Isatha was here. This would be so much easier with her coaching me…
She still circled over the herd, the lone old bull slowly catching up to the herd. Her belly growled.
If I don’t kill it, I’ll have to search for fruits again. Ah, damn it! I’m hungry and that one will die anyway! Angry with herself, she threw herself in a nosedive, her wings half closed for high maneuverability. Just before impact, she spread them wide, thrusting her talons forward and raming them into the old bull from the side.
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It felt weird, as her talons cut through the leathery skin and deep into flesh, locking themselves into a death grip.
The bull bellowed, as it was thrown down from the impact. It tried standing up but failed. Its herd roared and thundered away, fleeing from Rethia.
She felt the bull grow ever weaker in her grasp, until it stopped moving altogether. She shuddered.
This could’ve been me, a few days ago, in the maw of a wyvern. Looking around, she was alone. The buffaloes had fled, but smaller animals still moved through the grass. Her talons relaxed from their instinctive death grip and she carefully extracted them. Blood dripped from them.
I’ll have to find a stream or pond. I don’t want dry blood on them… Now, cutting it apart and making a fire… uhm… I… don’t have a firestarter? Why didn’t they pack a firestarter?!
She searched through every pouch on her belt, but she couldn’t find a firestarter. Not even something that could substitute one. Only the remaining jerky, the fruits she had packed during breakfast and a tiny jar of healing ointment.
“NOOOooooooo! Think, think, think, think! This can’t be, I don’t believe it, they forgot to pack a firestarter. Did I do something wrong? Should the jerky keep until I’m back? Was the route shorter and I didn’t notice the end of the plateau? What if I’m now circling two plateaus without knowing it?! But then why the healing ointment? They must’ve known about the wyverns and thought I would get injured. Or get injured by something else. But… but… why no firestarter? WHY?! This is… what should I do? Eat it raw? No, I can’t do that, can I? Raw meat is dangerous, isn’t it? Well, not that Isatha ever said that. And she did force me to it that first rabbit raw. Urgh. It stank of blood and it tasted horrible. But I didn’t get sick from that, and why didn’t they give me a Sprites damned firestarter! Ah, no, don’t curse on the Sprites, they judge your journey. But what should I do?! This is crazy! I just… I just want to get home again…” her outburst ended with her sitting on top of the carcass and hot tears rolling down her sniffling face.
“This is not fair… I wasn’t ready and Isatha just sent me on this trip regardless…”
She had to eat it raw, right? Or find some other way to make a fire. But even during training she had never made a fire without a firestarter!
Her belly growled at her again, louder this time. Or did it only seem louder because the wind wasn’t rushing in her ears?
“It’s… probably not as bad as I think?” Her talons flexed, uneasily, cutting through skin and flesh with terrifying ease. She shuddered at the feeling. “It’s… just… a rabbit. Yes… a large… rabbit… It will be tasty. It… will be tasty…”
Muttering under her breath, she hopped to the ground and began carefully dissecting the buffalo with her claws and talons. It was surprisingly easy work, once she got over her queasiness of the still warm flesh and blood. She’d have to wash herself thhoroughly in the next stream or lake that she found, to get rid of the blood glueing her feathers together.
Finally holding a piece of dripping red meat in her claws, she stared at it. Then at her surroundings, filled with only grass. She saw trees in the distance, only a quick flight away, but without knowing how to make a fire without a firestarter, they were useless. She turned back to look at the piece of meat.
“I’m a falcon-type harpy, kin to eagles and falcons. They eat their meat raw and survive, so I can do it to.”
With a face, she ripped a smaller piece out of the meat, chewed briefly and swallowed quickly, gagging.
“It’s worse than rabbit! It stinks, is stringy and hard to chew! This is the worst meat I’ve ever eaten!” Tears welled up in her eyes and she held the remaining chunk as far away as she could without outright throwing it away.
Her belly grumbled, demanding food.
“There are probably fruits and nuts in the next patch of forest. I can just eat those, instead of this…” She knew she couldn’t. The last two days, she had grown tired more quickly, flying less distance than during the first two days. She had become thinner, too, almost able to count her ribs, although she hadn’t changed anything.
The reason was simple, after she took the time to analyse it. Isatha had also said it countless times during training. You needed energy to fly. And a starved harpy wasn’t able to fly. A healthy diet of meat and supplemental fruits and veggies was the necessary. Bread was also good, but not easily digestable by harpies – besides, they had to buy it from other races and it spoiled after a week.
“I want to return home. I have to eat this to return home.”
It took her several moments to scrape her courage and resolution together, to gobble the chunk of meat down.
Don’t chew, don’t chew, just rip and swallow, she chanted in her mind. With the chunk gone, she shoved a clawful of berries from her pouch into her mouth, chewing them vigorously and letting the juice clean her tongue.
And still her belly grumbled.
She looked at the carcass with a withering gaze.