The Sparrowers - People of the Hollow

A Hard Earned Loss

Any Sparrower can attest to the difficulty that came with hunting a starnose mole. Especially when said hunting was occurring at night. It's challenging enough to track and take down the animal without being clouted by its muddy claws, then add into the fact that you're in a dark tunnel about as tall as your average chipmunk standing on its hind legs.

"It's enough to make even the most skilled Sparrower nervous."

A disgruntled sound echoed through the dirt tunnel, causing dust to drift down from the ceiling and onto the feathers of the light bearing Sparrower. He made another unhappy noise at this of course, putting down the glowworm on a stick that served as light to brush off his feathered cloak.

"And yet, here we are! Tromping through this bloody tunnel all because you have a pride that's bigger than a bear head and you can't let this damned mole get away!" He lamented, straightening the black and white plumes of his cloak and glaring at his hunting partner.

The female Sparrower stopped walking, let out an impatient huff and turned on her heel to face him, a thoroughly unimpressed look upon her narrow face.

"Keep this up and I'll really give you something to moan and groan about! Besides, it's not like I grabbed you by the tail-feathers and dragged you down here behind me!"

"You know as well as I do that hunting partners must always stick together! Literally, first thing we learn on our first hunt Islin! Of course you're the one who fell asleep while waiting for a mouse to leave its den so perhaps you missed that squidge of information!" Groused the male, picking up the glowworm torch and stomping up to her, his feathers on end. He was trying to appear exceptionally cross, but to her he just looked particularly silly.

Islin scoffed, turning back and resuming the trek through the tunnel, a hand at the quiver of arrows that hung from her belt, while she held her bow casually at her side. Personally, she thought Elwyn was just being his typical stick-in-the-mud self. An annoying aspect of her best friend really; chiding, stiff, and stiflingly cautious.

And he wasn't done "scolding" her either apparently as he was still talking.

"You know Sparrowers die doing stupid things like this? DIE. Because their heads were full of hot air and an overinflated EGO-"

"Winnie, you dear and darling woodpecker, I'd very much appreciate it if you could simply be quiet." She sighed, stopping again and looking back at him, an exasperated light within her eyes. It was with small yet present satisfaction that the other Sparrower stopped walking and even talking. For the most part at least.

She gave him a smile that was only slightly forced.

"For someone so dreadfully concerned he might be eaten or trampled, you do a very good job making as much noise as possible and making it quite easy for us to be snuck up on. So, I ask you kindly and humbly to... Be quiet...? What's with the face?"

As she had continued to talk, the woodpecker Sparrower had made an increasingly strange expression at her. One of great anxiety and even fear. No, not at her, the wide eyes weren't focused on her. They were above her.

Behind her.

Heart suddenly dropping through the bottom of her stomach, Islin slowly turned around to face the darkness that should have been behind her.

Instead, there was a pink and wriggling pair of nostrils behind her. The light behind her shifted just slightly, and Elwyn spoke so softly she could barely hear the woodpecker.

"No sudden movements, Is... Moles depend on their hearing to navigate, I need you to back up, slowly... And calmly.." He whispered, and Islin figured he was probably fighting off the immediate instinct to reach for his weapon or turn tail and take flight.