A Helping Hand

JOURNEY WEST

The breeze was always the first thing that changed at the beginning of every season. The warmer transitions known to send soft waves of heat in an almost comforting way, unlike the colder ones which felt like small blades digging into either flesh or feathers.

And in the city of Vancouver, the breeze had picked up a bit of a chill, signifying the end of the summer and into autumn. The trees would soon follow and paint their leaves the familiar red, yellow, and orange that symbolized the season to come. But for the time being, every nonhuman seemed aware of that fact, especially a peculiar group of birds who were currently flying over the city.

It was a sight to behold if the humans down below ever bothered to look up. But to those who did, more than often gawked at the sight of the four different kinds of birds flying together in a flock. Perhaps it was a type of mutualism between them or perhaps one of those rare animal friendships that nature channels loved to document. Whatever it was, it was truly remarkable to the naked eye.

But these birds paid no attention to the viewers beneath them, nor did they stay long enough to gather more attention. They flew quickly until they reached the shoreline to take a short break, relaxing their wings from the exhausting journey thus far, and taking time to scavenge for food.

Once they've had their fill, they took to the skies once again, flying west over the large body of water known as the Strait of Georgia. The ocean air was breathable from that point, a reminder of what lay ahead just to the left of Vancouver Island. And while the smaller birds flew uncaringly about the smell, Brock couldn't help but relish the smell of the sea. It had been two years since he flew over these waters, the last two having spent in Utah for Mini's sake, he had almost forgotten the smell entirely. Had he been human at that moment, he no doubt would've had a huge smile plastered on his face, but birds couldn't smile so a mental image of a smile had to do for the time being.

They reached Vancouver Island a few hours later, flying over the shoreline and heading further in. Brock's giddiness was through the roof, tempted to fly ahead of his friends, but he knew the risk of ending up lost if he did. So he did his best to resist and obediently flew behind his friends as they flew closer and closer to their destination.

They managed to take a short break along the way, per Mini's request, and Brock took the time to stretch his aching feathers. They were going to be sore for days to come no doubt, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

After finally getting Mini in the air, they flew the last few miles of their journey in idle chatter. Brock shared his happiness with his friends, getting squawks of acknowledgment from everyone but Mini who was still upset at the thought of spending a cold winter in Vancouver.

'We could've at least flown up here earlier in the year.' came the mopey cries of the prairie falcon, which only resulted in the choked squawks of laughter from the members of his flock, to which Mini internally scowled at.

'You act as if Utah was warm all year round.' squawked Ohm teasingly, oblivious to the glare Mini sent him. 'At least I had better food options there than here!' retorted Mini, his feathers slightly bristled and turned to the greenery in front of them, ignoring Ohm's further remarks.

The rest of the journey went by quickly, minus the times Delirious had to stop Mini and Ohm from bickering, and they reached Tzartus Island by nightfall. They made sure to stop at the shoreline, not daring to step further, and raised their senses.

'I'll be quick.' was the only thing Delirious said before he took off, disappearing in a matter of seconds. The remaining birds stayed by the shoreline; mindful of the cold water on their talons, the salty breeze in the atmosphere, and the stillness of the terrain ahead of them. No moving object was ignored, their heads turning simultaneously and predatory at the mere movement of a leaf.

'Macha and his flock better not be here.'

The sudden squawks startled Ohm and Brock out of their concentration, turning their heads to a bristle-faced Mini. The mention of the flock sent dread down Brock's back, he'd almost forgotten that they had the chance of being here. After their last encounter, he knew there was a slim chance of peace between both groups. 'Maybe the last flock that was here managed to keep the cliffs for themselves' supplied Ohm, nudging Mini reassuringly with his wing.

'I doubt it. Although they won in numbers, they were always a little too trusting.' squawked Mini, looking back in the direction they came a faraway look in his eyes. Brock couldn't help but agree with Mini and his pessimistic nature for once. While Trig's flock that occupied those cliffs last time were the most welcoming group they've stumbled upon, they were no match for Macha's flock of swift and well-coordinated peregrine falcons. But unlike Mini, he had a bit of hope that Trig was able to hold his ground. 'Maybe. But I trust Delirious will know what to do no matter the outcome.' is what he finally said, and it seemed to have done the trick. Mini turned back to concentrating on their surroundings and seemed to have a positive aura around him for once.

A while later, the familiar raspy call of their peregrine friend was heard, and they all watched with held breaths as Delirious finally landed in front of them.

'So? What's it like over there?' said Mini, taking a step closer to Delirious, but he all but stopped him from walking further. 'Macha is occupying the cliffs again.' squawked Delirious, gaining weary looks from his group.

'What happened to Trig?' Brock couldn't but ask. He ignored the look Mini sent him and looked at Delirious desperately. 'Macha drove them out the year after we left.' he squawked, looking at Brock in what he hoped was sympathy.

A moment of silence passed through the group, dread taking over Brock's once excited demeanor. He wasn't looking forward to negotiating with the flock, and he almost wished that they were back in Utah. He'd gladly live off rabbits and deal with sweltering summers than risk anything with Macha. 'What do we do Delirious?' squawked Ohm, breaking the silence. All of them looked expectantly at Delirious as he looked down towards the ground.

'He said that he doesn't want us stepping foot on the island without notice and that we can't under no circumstance stay on the cliffs .'

Mini almost wanted to scream and lash out at the flock leader. Where would they go? They didn't know the area as well as they knew it two years ago. Neither did they know a safer place other than the cliffs ahead of them.

'So what now? Do we risk settling down in the city?'

Delirious shook his head, meeting Mini's gaze with what he thought was determination. 'No. There's an island just north of this one. We'll find shelter there and join Macha's flock in time for feeding.'

If it wasn't Macha who he was going to unveil his wrath to, Delirious wasn't too far off either. 

Yeah, yeah I'm back and I spent months re-writing the first chapter after hating it for so long. Hopefully, things will go faster from here on out.