The next day, after that dreadful experience, she noticed her wings moving as strong as on the first day again.

“So it was because of the meat. Urgh. I hope I’ll see the village soon. Don’t know if I can eat something like that again…”

Rethia scanned the horizon and the plateau for anything that looked familiar. White clouds scuttled overhead, throwing their large shadows on the land below, hiding the sun from sight. The lone, snow-covered mountain was already far behind her, an expanse of the plateau between it and her.

A rare ray of sun broke through the clouds, illuminating the muddy waterfalls jumping down the cliffside and drawing her eyes in with their sudden ruby-like glitter.

“Red Falls? Are those the Red Falls Isatha spoke about?!”

She closed in quickly. “I’ve never seen red water. The other streamlets and waterfalls were clear. Then… I’m halfway to home? I’ve only managed half of the way? I have to fly another 5 days to get home? But I finally know where I am! Halfway home! Whoohooo!”

Whooping, she turned in circles, loopings, rolled in the air and twirled, as thick clouds pushed in front of the sun again. She would be home soon. Only 5 more days.

Her capers tired her out quickly and she landed on the plateau, right next to the spot where the muddy river turned into the Red Falls, gazing over the landscape below her. Everything looked so small from up here. More so than ever before.

Those wyverns, had they really chased her? It seems like a distant nightmare now.

“What would’ve happened it those Landbound hadn’t been there? Would I have ended as a wyvern snack? Did the flock know that there are wyverns roosting in that mountain? Surely they would’ve warned me, if they knew, but… Isatha knows everything. I can’t believe they don’t know about them. Then, did they send me on this trip knowing full well that I would encounter wyverns? That they would hunt and kill me? Are they sending hatchlings into their death?! But… but… there must be a reason! I refuse to believe they sent me to death! Why teach me flying, if they want to be rid of me? That’s utter nonsense. No, there must be a reason.

“Isatha said that I just had to circle the plateau and return to the village. There was no time limit. They gave me food and a bit of healing ointment. Water? Well, yeah, there are enough streams running down from the plateau that carrying around water is unnecessary. So. They probably expected me to get injured at some point and that I would need the healing oinment. Maybe even as soon as my run-in with the wyverns? Is that it? Are they testing my survivability, instead of my flying abilities?

“Since the food wasn’t nearly enough to keep until I’m back. I’ve taken five and a half days to reach the midway point. This means I’ll need another five and a half days to get home. They wanted me to hunt for myself! And they expected that I would run into some kind of predator and escape them.

“Then… have I already failed, because I was saved by those Landbound? But… they weren’t harpies. No one ever said, that getting help is forbidden, only that other harpies wouldn’t help me… Hngh…”

Rethia held her head, mumbling to herself as she tried to unravel the meaning of this trip.

“But what if I really failed now, because they helped? And how do they even know that someone helped, if it’s even forbidden for someone to follow? The Sprites, perhaps? Don’t they have more important stuff to do than keeping watch over hatchlings? Raargh! This is so complicated! What should I do now? Continue and say nothing about it? Or return and… do what? Fight the last wyvern? How?! I don’t have any weapons! And even if, I can’t use them while flying. And it is so much larger than me! This… this is frustrating…”

The light dimmed, the sun setting behind the clouds, leaving her in darkness. Beside her, the river continued gurgling unperturbed, and her stomach started grumbling again.

She could return and try the wyvern. Or she could continue and get home. Find out if she really failed or not.

Before long, she fell into an uneasy sleep under the canopy of her wings, questions haunting her dreams.

Her growling stomach woke her long before the sun even rose. After gnawing on gathered fruits from yesterday, she continued her flight in the light of the half-hidden full moon. So long as she could see the plateau in the changing light, she wouldn’t get lost. Even if she couldn’t see much else.

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Gone was the excitement of the journey. Instead of gliding leisurely to save her strength and making many breaks to enjoy the new sights and the landscape, Rethia flew swiftly. Hunting was done quickly and the raw meat gobbled down quickly.

There was a desert far to her left, but she didn’t stop to marvel at it, her eyes busy searching for raptors, food, water and resting spots.

The ratio of gliding to flapping had turned upside down, as she swiftly cut through the sky on her race home.

Three days later, the plateau gradually changed back to a bamboo forest. The wind picked up in the evening, but she wasn’t concerned. With the familiar bamboo around her, and the hooting of monkeys, she felt relieved.

Almost home, she thought and fell asleep. The taste of bloody deer still prevalent on her tongue despite the heap of berries she had gulped down afterwards.

A terrified wail ripped her awake. It was still dark, her eyes blurry from sleep, yet she dove from the plateau within seconds, seeking the relative safety of the open air.

The cool air and the continued wail woke her up completely.

Scanning her surroundings, she couldn’t find any hostile creatures – not that she could see that much. The moon had set already and the sun wasn’t up yet.

But she couldn’t hear the sound of wings cutting through air – except for her own - so at least nothing else was in the air with her. Then it must’ve come from the plateau.

Until now, she had thought it safe. She couldn’t remember seeing any predators around. Or was that another thing Isatha had forgotten to mention? That maybe only the training grounds were safe and the rest was home to cats and wolves and whatnot? And she had just slept on the plateau without knowing it, trusting that they wouldn’t eat her?!

How dumb she had been!

The sky turned lighter, throwing the bamboo into pre-dawn darkness, making it even harder to see anything.

Maybe she should just continue flying, instead of waiting around for whatever was wailing out there.

Something rustled through the bamboo, followed by a soft thud.

The sun peaked over the horizon, giving the land an eerie gown of long shadows, penetrated by long spears of light.

What had stumbled out of the bamboo was one of the golden-brown monkeys that were cared for by harpies. Its back sported a set of bleeding claw marks.

What creature dared to hunt such a monkey? They were precious to all harpies! She didn’t know why, but it was law to protect them.

She couldn’t just fly away. But she also couldn’t just rush in. Where was the creature that had done this? It was somewhere around, she was sure of it. No predator let its prey run away.

If she landed to care for the monkey, the predator would strike her. If she didn’t do anything, it would kill the monkey. Fetching help was out of the question. She was still two days from home and even if she found a nearby harpy, she wouldn’t receive any help.

“I won’t run away again, like with the wyverns!” she hissed at herself. With a loud screech, she threw herself forward, landing next to the monkey with her wings spread wide, to look larger than she actually was.

“Go away, beast!” she shouted, flapping her wings vigorously towards the spot where the monkey had come from.

She had no idea if the beast really was at that spot. It could be anywhere.

A snarl made her whirl around. A tiger slunk out of the bamboo from the side, cutting of the way to the edge of the plateau. Its yellow eyes stared hungrily at her.

Rethia screeched back at it, wings spread wide to intimidate it. But it was for naught. It slowly stepped forward.

With one talon, she carefully grabbed the monkey, while with the other leg, she gathered strength for a jump, folding her wings.

The tiger leapt forwards and she pushed of the ground, getting out of its reach, wings grabbing at the air to flee.

It yowled angrily, but she would not land again to get ripped apart by it.

Drifting out over the lowlands, she circled down to the next river. It took an hour of quick flying to reach it and the monkey was shivering and hot when she landed to take a good look at its wounds.

“You’ve got a fever, poor thing. And there’s probably dirt in the wound. I’ll have to wash them clean and I hope you can bear with it. Claws aren’t exactly the best at carefully washing things.” She talked in a soothing voice, holding the monkey firm, as she submerged it in the stream and tried to carefully wash its wounds. Ripping open the scabbed spots and nicking its skin in the process. It wailed and whimpered during the whole procedure.

Every time that happened, she winced. Claws really weren’t good at dealing with wounds.

With this nerve-wracking job done, she searched for something to dry the poor thing. She momentarily thought about using her scarf, but the once pristinely black-and-white thing was dirty with dried blood and mud and whatnot. And her wings weren’t much better. And now that she looked, she was in a truely horrible state herself. The quick scrubs in the streams along the way had prevented worse, but… she couldn’t return home while looking like a vagabond! With her feathers standing askew and a mixture of dried mud-and-blood clotting her plumage.

But first the monkey. Scrubbing her claws clean on a stone in the stream, she applied some of the ointment on its wounds.

Large leaves were used as a bandage – after cleaning them – and the monkey carefully placed on a sun warmed rock where she could keep an eye on it.

Then she scrubbed herself clean, giving each feather extra care.

It took hours to rid herself of the mud, and she regularly checked on the monkey, making it drink water and trying to get it to eat – with mixed results. The best it could manage was squashed berries mixed with enough water to make it drinkable.

With even her scarf and sash dripping wet, but mostly clean again, and her plumage taken care of, Rethia decided it was time to search for a sheltered spot. They couldn’t sleep on the ground, and she still had to hunt down her lunch and dinner. Fruits just weren’t enough. Though she could probably wait until morning, too.

Carefully cradling the monkey in a talon again, she flapped towards the plateau, settling on an outcropping in the cliffside, huddling around the monkey to keep it warm and safe.