Wind Under Wings

Chapter Four, Part One

***

"Obnoxious squabs!" One of the trio hissed, tail lashing. "Are you all so blind you can't even see where you're going?"

Taliak hastily scrambled back with the others, wide-eyed and staring. The strangers were nestlings like themselves but bigger, at least a year old. None of them possessed the spotted-and-tawny down coats like Taliak and his friends either, but were instead a single uniform color from beak-to-ear-to-wing-to-tail, all fur and feather. The krall standing before them was a sandy brown, while the two hesses flanking him on either side were a light silver and a thunder grey. Not one of them looked friendly.

"Well?" the krall demanded, obviously the nestking. He towered over them and raised his wings in threat. "Are you going to apologize or do we have to teach you all a lesson?"

Taliak's heart was racing. He gulped and tried to squirm farther back, but there was nowhere to go. Teralt, Areel, Dankar, and Sittiss were crammed behind himself, Igri, and Kaavis, their heads ducking in fear. It was up to the three nestleaders to deal with this problem.

"S-sorry," Igri gasped, her tail quivering. "We didn't mean to run into you—"

"You mean fall on top of us," the krall growled, hovering even closer. "Tekma used to be peaceful and quiet before you and the rest of the last spring's squabs started crawling out of your dens, and now no one gets any peace!"

"We didn't mean to bother anyone," Taliak said, his own wings rising in alarm. "Honest. We didn't know you were here."

"We're only trying to get to the dust baths," Kaavis added, doing his best to sound reasonable.

"Why should I care where you're going?" The krall snarled. He swatted at Kaavis, who ducked in time to avoid the blow. "Just get out of here, away from us!"

Taliak and the others wheeled round and threw themselves back up the slope. They scrabbled desperately for purchase and tried to hoist themselves up, but the incline was too steep; all of them came sliding down again.

"Maybe they need help, Vrek," the silver hess sneered.

"Good idea, Ilna, I think they could use a little push," the krall agreed. Then he and his nestmates lunged at them, buffeting them with their bigger wings and snapping at their tails, jeering at them while the nestlings struggled back up the slope.

"What's the matter, poor little squab can't make the climb?" The grey hess cackled as she swiped at Taliak. One of her claws caught in his hind leg and he squawked as he was dragged back down in a crumbling heap beneath her, knocking Dankar down with him in the process. Her huge feathered wings slapped painfully against their faces. Brown Vrek was laughing.

"Better hurry and climb, we won't wait forever!"

A deafening roar sounded from somewhere above them, and all of them froze. The grey hess glanced up, startled, and a heartbeat later she was scurrying away from Taliak to rejoin her nestmates, just as another griffin came bounding down the slope.

"What do you think you three are doing, picking on little nestlings?" The newcomer snarled. He stood protectively in front of Taliak and his friends while glaring at Vrek and his sisters, his ears laying flat against his feathered skull and his eyes flashing menacingly. This was no nestling like everyone else, but a young subadult griffin with a growing mane and splashes of brown covering his otherwise black pelt and feathers. As far as Taliak was concerned their saviour was practically full grown.

Vrek and his nestmates cowered back, tails tucking between their legs, as they looked on at the older, bigger, griffin. "We weren't picking on them," Vrek muttered, keeping his eyes low, "we just wanted to teach them not to go blundering around making so much noise all the time, that's all."

"Ssst! You think you were much different last summer at Haakar?" The krall flared, tail thrashing. "I remember you three, along with all the other nestlings hatched spring before last, shrieking and squalling your hearts out enough to send every bird flying off, and none of us ever bothered any of you. Just because you made the flight to Tekma doesn't mean you get to prowl around and bully the little ones like you own it."

Taliak's heart was still beating wildly like a trapped bird in his chest, but even so he managed to glance curiously at their rescuer. The name Haakar sounded familiar to him, maybe something that Igri or Kaavis had said in passing? But he didn't understand what the krall meant about being from Haakar. Weren't they all hatched and raised in Tekma's Order?

At last Vrek lifted his eyes.

"Aren't you one of the two-year-olds?"

The krall's tail suddenly stilled and his feathered mane began to bristle. He lifted his beak.

"I am. What of it?"

"Well..." Vrek said delicately, but his face had become a leer. He no longer seemed as intimidated as before. "What are you still doing here? Shouldn't you have left to become a skark with the others your age at spring's end?"

When a griffin reached their second spring they were forced from their parents' den and would leave the home territory to explore the outer lands and learn how to hunt and defend for themselves. It was a trial that lasted roughly two years, and if they survived and grew to be strong enough the Gryp would accept them into the Order as a member of his khazleer. To be a khaz was every young griffin's greatest ambition, and a high honor.

The older krall did not answer, but a violent rumbling noise was emanating from deep within his chest. Sensing a fight, Taliak and his friends pressed as far back as they could, crouching to look as small as possible. The krall's claws slid out and he took a threatening step toward Vrek, but Vrek only stood up straighter, his eyes flashing.

"I know what you are," Vrek hissed gleefully. "I know why you haven't left High Forest with the others. You can't be a skark, can you?"

"I'm warning you..."

Vrek fluffed and rustled his wings haughtily. "You can't do anything to me. You're just a weakling hatched from an alce's egg. You're an alsar!"

Silence greeted these words. Then Vrek's nestmates let out derisive cackles.

"Alsar, alsar, alssaaarr," they chanted together. They wagged their tails back and forth and flipped their wings at the krall, who seemed to have frozen in place. He was still and rigid as a boulder, his expression unreadable.

"Alright," Vrek said to his nestmates, and they quieted instantly. He swaggered up to the krall and said, "You've had your fun playing the hero, alsar, but it's time for you to leave. We don't want you around anymore."

The black-and-brown krall still did not move.

"Do I have to make it an order?" Here Vrek turned so that his left side was fully facing the other krall and lowered a wing until the tip of his feathers brushed the ground. "I said go. Fly off, you alsar, you worthless--"

The krall charged, slamming into Vrek and pinning him to the ground before he even had time to gasp with surprise.

"You dare?" The krall's voice hissed out low and deadly. He pressed his curved beak against Vrek's. "You dare drop your wing to me? Signal for me to yield to you? I may be one of the lowliest in the Order, but I will fight a drakaina before some nestling commands me!"

Then he leaned over and bit one of Vrek's ears clean in half. He turned his head and tossed the brown piece at the feet of Vrek's nestmates, who were cowering now, all signs of laughter gone. His blazing eyes fixed themselves onto Vrek again. "And my name is Frissner. Never forget that. So, what does a mighty, strong nestling like you have to say to me now?"