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I decided to continue this a little bit. Let me know what you think. I'd like to improve a bit on my writing in general, but I also want some advice on pacing/imagery/can you even tell what's going on. x) I've decided to call this little story "Aviarchy."
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The sun was already a finch’s wingspan above the horizon before Lord Kretchket finally saw animal movement in the grasses. A small gray-brown spot was huddled next to a clump of grass. Kretchket kept an eye on the animal below and wheeled above it momentarily, triangulating its location, before tucking his wings in and dropping through the air towards the little rodent.
The marmot had strayed from its burrow to graze on a tussock of tender grass. The wind whipped Kretchket’s face as he picked up speed and drew near his prey. He brought his talons forward in anticipation.
Suddenly the marmot whipped upright, its whiskers twitching furiously. With a startling fleetness it darted back into its burrow, diving into safety just as Kretchket hit the ground with an ungraceful thump and a curse. The gyrfalcon folded his wings angrily, glaring at the burrow that his breakfast had disappeared into. How annoying. He’d made every care to sneak up on the stupid bastard; he was sure the sun was to his back, and there was no way the animal could have caught his scent from the sky, and his shadow was behind the marmot, out of its field of vision…. Stupid mammal, Kretchket grouched.
Lord Kretchket had turned to take off again, but paused in mid-flap as a dark object caught his eye. There, under a nearby scrub-bush, there lay an oddly shaped lump of… something. Kretchket craned his neck, standing on the tips of his toes to get a better look, paused, looked over his shoulder cautiously, and then shambled reluctantly towards the strange mess. Now that he was closer, his eyes adjusted to the shade beneath the bush, but…. What was that? Kretchket quickly looked over each shoulder again before tentatively approaching the mystery blob.
It was a mangled mass of meat and hide from some animal that had recently been much larger than the gyrfalcon. Its brown hide was torn and bloody, wrapped around the last remaining gristle like a large blanket. The falcon-lord was baffled. Speechless. Confused. Scared? In his thirteen years of life he’d never seen an animal this big, even the remains of something this big. He impulsively lunged forward and took the edge of the skin in his beak, giving it a brisk tug. The mess of a carcass didn’t move. Kretchket looked over his shoulder again. The marmot was staring at him from the entrance of its burrow.
“The hell’re you staring at, furface?” Kretchket screeched angrily, and the rodent disappeared back into its burrow in a cloud of dust and skittering claws.
Still hungry, Kretcket picked what little meat he could from the carcass, wiped the gore from his beak the grass and took flight. The presence of the corpse alarmed and disturbed him, for what animal that large had been seen since Hrisskar’s reign? Furthermore, what animal could kill and eat an animal so large?
This was a matter to concern the King.
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The sun was already a finch’s wingspan above the horizon before Lord Kretchket finally saw animal movement in the grasses. A small gray-brown spot was huddled next to a clump of grass. Kretchket kept an eye on the animal below and wheeled above it momentarily, triangulating its location, before tucking his wings in and dropping through the air towards the little rodent.
The marmot had strayed from its burrow to graze on a tussock of tender grass. The wind whipped Kretchket’s face as he picked up speed and drew near his prey. He brought his talons forward in anticipation.
Suddenly the marmot whipped upright, its whiskers twitching furiously. With a startling fleetness it darted back into its burrow, diving into safety just as Kretchket hit the ground with an ungraceful thump and a curse. The gyrfalcon folded his wings angrily, glaring at the burrow that his breakfast had disappeared into. How annoying. He’d made every care to sneak up on the stupid bastard; he was sure the sun was to his back, and there was no way the animal could have caught his scent from the sky, and his shadow was behind the marmot, out of its field of vision…. Stupid mammal, Kretchket grouched.
Lord Kretchket had turned to take off again, but paused in mid-flap as a dark object caught his eye. There, under a nearby scrub-bush, there lay an oddly shaped lump of… something. Kretchket craned his neck, standing on the tips of his toes to get a better look, paused, looked over his shoulder cautiously, and then shambled reluctantly towards the strange mess. Now that he was closer, his eyes adjusted to the shade beneath the bush, but…. What was that? Kretchket quickly looked over each shoulder again before tentatively approaching the mystery blob.
It was a mangled mass of meat and hide from some animal that had recently been much larger than the gyrfalcon. Its brown hide was torn and bloody, wrapped around the last remaining gristle like a large blanket. The falcon-lord was baffled. Speechless. Confused. Scared? In his thirteen years of life he’d never seen an animal this big, even the remains of something this big. He impulsively lunged forward and took the edge of the skin in his beak, giving it a brisk tug. The mess of a carcass didn’t move. Kretchket looked over his shoulder again. The marmot was staring at him from the entrance of its burrow.
“The hell’re you staring at, furface?” Kretchket screeched angrily, and the rodent disappeared back into its burrow in a cloud of dust and skittering claws.
Still hungry, Kretcket picked what little meat he could from the carcass, wiped the gore from his beak the grass and took flight. The presence of the corpse alarmed and disturbed him, for what animal that large had been seen since Hrisskar’s reign? Furthermore, what animal could kill and eat an animal so large?
This was a matter to concern the King.
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