The forest was cloaked in stillness, but the cries and screams from the thicket shattered its tranquility, reaching the ever-vigilant Sylvestra. Emerging from the dense foliage, she followed the sound to a bushy outcropping separated from the towering trees. The lingering footprints of the two-legged creature who had departed only moments ago marked their intrusion into the forest’s heart. Usually, Sylvestra would avoid this trail for days, allowing the forest to recover from their presence. However, an unsettling feeling gripped her senses, compelling her to investigate further.
The scent of the abandoned youngling piqued her curiosity. Fatigue and fear emanated from the child, an understandable response to its situation. Yet, what intrigued her were the waves of thoughts radiating from the child's mind. Although the night forest whispered with its symphony of sounds—frogs, crickets, and the distant hoot of a Whisperwing owl in the birch grove to the West, as well as the rustling of wind through the pines and the murmuring of the nearby river to the North—there were no human sounds. And yet, the child's cries echoed in her mind, pleading for reassurance and help. It was a phenomenon unprecedented in the realm of two-legged creatures. But if she could hear it, could the Whisperwing? The notion sparked a flicker of concern within her.
A mother herself, Sylvestra longed to rush to the aid of the frightened child. However, a prudent caution held her back. This was uncharted territory. Leaving her young cubs in the safety of a nearby tree, protected from potential predators, she cautiously ventured into the tangle of bushes.
“Shush, shush, shush. It’s all right; it’s going to be okay. Can you hear me?” Sylvestra projected her soothing thoughts toward the child's troubled mind. “Why? I’m scared. Don’t go!” came the reply. “I know, shush, it’s okay.” “WHY? I don’t understand!” "I know, shush, I know. The screams subsided, gradually softening into pitiful sobs.
White Feather heard the rustling and twigs snapping around her; someone or something was approaching her. Was it her father? He had only left her there moments ago. Stiffening at the presence, she sensed within her mind. She tried to calm herself. Slowly softening her distress, she wriggled deeper under the bush where she had been left. Her senses were alert. These intrusions into her thoughts were unsettling. With cautious trepidation, she mustered the courage to ask, "What's happening? Who is there?" Her brief experience with her family and snippets of telepathic communication had amounted to eavesdropping on certain animals that had never been directed toward her. "Hello, who are you?" she inquired hesitantly. "Shush, it's going to be okay."
With the grace and silence befitting a full-size adult Lumarian Bear, Sylvestra pressed through the undergrowth. Thick, white fur, a unique feature among her species, shielded her from the prickling touch of sticks and thorns. Approaching the child from downwind, she sought to conceal her scent. The sight and smell of a 500-pound Lumarian Bear would only compound the child's fear and distress. Probing once again, she reached out, "Hello? Can you hear me?" In response, White Feather's thoughts trembled, "What's going on? Who is there?” It's okay, child, don't be scared. I am here to help you."
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“I can hear you. How can you hear me? What is happening? Where are my parents?" White Feather's thoughts wavered with uncertainty and vulnerability. "I don't know, child, but I will help you. I need you to come out from there to find safety," Sylvestra urged gently. “I’m not able to move.” Came the child’s whispered thoughts. “I’m not like the others.” Moving her paws through the undergrowth, Sylvestra moved the girl out into an opening.
Just as White Feather's shock of white hair cleared the entangled branches, a wave of possessiveness emanated from above. “Mine!” the Whisperwing cried, swooping in to seize its prey. With swift reflexes, Sylvestra swiped at the raptor, disrupting its attempt to lift the child from the ground. The Whisperwing tumbled to the earth, feathers disheveled dirt and blood staining its beak and head. The Lumarian Bear positioned herself between the owl and the child, her massive form as a protective barrier. Rising onto her hind legs, she let out a resounding roar, both audible and communicated through her thoughts. "This is my cub, lay a talon on it, and you shall face the consequences." Defiantly, the Whisperwing responded, "Not over!" before beating its wings to retreat to the refuge of the gray aspen trees.
Turning back to the child, Sylvestra discovered White Feather was unconscious, with a gash on her right shoulder. Though faint, the child's breaths reassured the Lumarian Bear that she was alive. Handling the youngling carefully, Sylvestra picked her up with her mussel, retracing her path through the forest. Pausing momentarily to gather her own cubs, Sylvestra ventured deeper into the protective embrace of the dark woods, seeking care for the wounded two-leg child.
Red Hawk
In the dim light of their new life, White Feather's parents, Lysandra and Eldric, carried the weight of their decision like an unrelenting shadow. Each day was a painful reminder of the child they had left behind and the judgment that had driven them away from their tribe. The once welcoming faces of their kin now bore the marks of ridicule and condemnation, making it impossible to stay.
With heavy hearts and a longing for redemption, they embarked on a journey to a distant tribe, seeking a fresh start. The path was arduous, winding through unforgiving terrain, but they trudged on, determined to escape their past and find solace in a new beginning.
Their arrival in the unfamiliar tribe was met with skepticism. Still, the passage of time, the sincerity in their eyes, and the genuine efforts they put into rebuilding their lives earned them a place in the hearts of their new community. Among strangers who knew nothing of their past, it was here that they found a glimmer of hope.
As seasons passed, Lysandra and Eldric were blessed with a son they named Red Hawk. He was a child born into a world of secrets and unspoken pain. From a young age, the weight of his parents' shame began to seep into his consciousness. He could sense the heaviness in their voices when they spoke of their past, the silent tears that fell in the darkest hours of the night.
The bitterness that had taken root within him grew as Red Hawk grew. He watched his family toiled tirelessly, scraping together meager resources to survive. White Feather became a symbol of their poverty and struggles in his young mind, a living reminder of the shame that haunted his family.
Resentment gnawed at his heart, fueling his actions and driving a growing wedge between him and the sister he had never known. She was the cause of their misfortune in his eyes, an unseen specter that had cast a long shadow over their lives. The bitterness that had taken hold threatened to consume him. As the years passed, the rift between brother and sister deepened, a silent tragedy in a family desperately seeking redemption.