The Forest Witch's Home for Magical Creatures

Chapter 2: The Little Bird

She and Ursa crossed through the trees into a small glade. Ursa's shoulders were hunched up with her snout pulled into a snarl. The witch looked excitedly around the glade. But there was nothing. She could feel the magic all around her but no one was there. She turned around in a complete circle looking for where the magic was coming from. She looked at Ursa and shrugged her shoulders.

She saw Ursa's eyes widen seconds before the creature attacked from the sky. All she saw was black as it flew at her. A strong wind threw her back. The breath was knocked out of her as she hit the ground hard. She lay gasping on the ground. She heard a terrible roar. Her insides were watery. She could feel the fear paralyzing her. She couldn't move. Tears stung her eyes. She was starting to think this was a bad idea.

She heard Ursa roaring. She couldn't leave Ursa alone. She rolled over on her stomach. The pain was intense. Her vision was blurred, red dripped down into the dirt below her. Was she bleeding? She vomited into the dirt. The fighting continued around her while she tried to get herself together. She slowly stood up and almost immediately her legs gave out. She dropped down to her knees and dry heaved. She was splattering blood all over the ground.

The witch stood up on shaking legs as blood poured from her nose. Dazed, she watched as Ursa swiped her claws at something. What was that?

She rubbed the knot on the back of her head. How hard did she hit her head? She didn't understand what she was seeing.

The creature in the glade was large and mostly human-shaped. If you ignored the huge, black wings arching out of its back. Its face - no his face- was set in a feral snarl. His long and sharp teeth were bared. His arm was raised up ready to strike out at Ursa. Each of the creature's fingers ended in long talons. The scene before her could have come straight out of a horror movie. She felt fear build up in her stomach and spread through her body like a sickness. Instead of freezing up, she did the opposite. In a rush, she ran over to the two predators poised to attack one another. Her vision blurred violently as she shoved her body in front of Ursa.

At that moment she felt like a speck. A small, insignificant thing standing between two forces of nature. Ursa reared back on her hind legs and towered over her. Her resounding roar was so thunderous that hot spittle rained down on the witch. The beast in front of her eclipsed the sun with its massive wings. She had never felt so short in her life, her head barely reached the creature's shoulders. Her body tightened up in anticipation. Her adrenaline kicked in and her vision cleared and she focused on his face.

She saw blue.

Not blue like the sky on a peaceful sunny day.

Not the soft blue a parent would paint a child's room.

Not the pretty blue cornflowers growing in the spring.

This was the terrifying blue of a storm at sea.

This was the all-encompassing blue of raging water.

This blue was filled with the furious anger of a funnel cloud touching down.

She couldn't look away. It was like time stopped. She couldn't hear their snarls as she reached up a bloodied hand to touch the face in front of her.

The winged man flinched back with shock evident on his face.

What a nice face it was without the fearful snarl. Ursa made an undignified choking noise behind her.

She had enough self-awareness to be embarrassed. She dropped her hand. It was silent in the glade. The world continued to spin. Her nose continued to drip with blood. And she continued to stare up intently at the face before her.