A Hawk's Shadow

Yosemite Valley

         The moon was a silver sphere in the sky. The moon's light was an eerie glow as it shone on the snow that covered the hard ground like a white blanket. Everything was still, everything was silent. A slight breeze brought the chill and the cold. The valley had been untouched for hundreds of years. No human had stepped into the bowl made of steep hills. It was said that this place was a cursed place and superstition surrounded it. All animals had been frightened off, by what, that was unknown. Then a shadow, in the shape of a hawk, crossed the glittering snow, and vanished into the night; it's caw breaking the silence that surrounded Yosemite Valley.
           The hawk's black wings with bits of white pushed downwards, almost touching the snow that matched the white feathers upon his chest. Up the hill rose and the hawk rose with its incline. Soon the burnt red tail of the hawk was all that could be seen; the reason why it was called the red-tailed hawk. Then even that, disappeared as the hawk flew over the crest of the hill.
           After that, all that was left in the valley was snow, and a few bare trees rattling in the wind.
           Slowly but surely, a head appeared into view. It was covered in a warm brown toque; the inside made of beaver fur with leather surrounding it. A pale green scarf surrounded his mouth and cheeks, revealing only his eyes which were as blue as the sky in early morning. The scarf matched the bag that was slung over his left shoulder; his supply bag. On the strap of the bag, was the hawk, and a gloved hand was stroking its golden brown head. In his other hand was a long staff made from oak wood that was taller than him. The man's torso appeared which was covered in a black, winter jacket. A long bow made of the same wood of his staff hung on his back and a quiver was clipped onto a belt at his side. In the quiver was exactly fifteen arrows and forty-five black feathers. On the other side of the belt, was a bone knife, sharp enough it would slice a finger that touched it for an instant. In enough time, the very boots upon the man's feet could be seen by the valley below. The man paused on the top of hill, and beneath the wool scarf, he smiled.
           He lifted up his foot from under the snow, and a hill of snow on the tip of his boot came with it. Then he stepped into Yosemite Valley, the first person to do so in hundreds of years. It seemed upon that first step the wind shuddered and took a sharp breath. The trees stilled. The silence in the valley had a deeper silence, if that was at all possible.
           The man continued on his way down the steep hill. It took effort to move each foot as the snow was deep. But on he trudged, his voice muffled by the scarf.
           "Kindle," he said to the hawk, "what do you think we'll find here? The men and women from the village seem to have been scared out of their wits when I told them I intended to go through here. It makes you wonder, what is in here that makes them so afraid?" The bird looked at him in reply and nuzzled his head on the man's hat. "It seems so lonely in this place. The Yosemite Valley. It is a wonder that a place that is feared this much has such a name. It seems as though it is a lovely valley, and look, the snow is untouched as far as the eye can see." The snow crunched under his feet, and if he had looked back, he would have seen a young child appear over the crest of the hill, following in his footsteps.
           The child was bundled up in the normal way most native people were. Head covered so only the tiniest crack allowed the young boy's brown eyes to see. His hands were covered in thick mittens and the jacket made him twice the size he was. He crept down the hill in silence; the only give away was the crunch of his boots in the soft snow.
           The man was now in the forest residing in the centre of Yosemite Valley. The forest was barren of leaves and the trees had thick snow wherever there was a horizontal surface. There was no scratched bark peeling off any of the trees he passed by, signalling no deer had travelled by in a while. Some of the trees had dark marks on them, as though they had been scorched by fierce heat. The silence was soon found to be disconcerting. On he trudged, through the thick snow, and thick underbrush. As he neared the centre of the forest, he heard a slight movement up ahead. To his ears, it sounded like water.
           As he pushed through the last bit of bush, he saw that he was right because indeed there was a stream. The water pushed the ice out of the middle of the stream and towards the side, creating a firm place to stand. As he quietly observed the stream, he decided it was more like a river. The water raced over the rocks in its path, swiftly carving a way through the maze of rocks that hid just beneath the water. It couldn't have been more than nine meters wide, and the depth, he wasn't sure of. He walked as close to edge as he dared, and he reached over and planted his staff in the water. The water diverted its path and split to make way for the intruder. He uprooted his staff and held it to his side, examining the water mark it left behind. It seemed as though the water was up to his knees, but that did not mean that the water would not rise as he crossed. After much debate, he decided to find an area along the stream that was not quite as wide, and not so deep. The more water that was on him, the greater the chance of him freezing.
           "Alright Kindle, we're going to find another route. Of course you could just fly over, but I'm afraid Kindle, I do not have wings to carry me." Kindle cawed sympathetically, it seemed, and the man continued to walk along the river's edge downstream.
           The river was his constant companion, and the hard ice allowed him easier movement as he did not have to lift his feet through thick snow. Due to that, he found that his pace was much quicker, and as such, the distance he covered in the same amount of time was greater. The thoughts that went through his head had little to with his current circumstances, but of a time before, when all was right in the world. His mind had drifted to the thoughts of his wife, Lydia, and that of his children, Callum and Axle. His thoughts were not of the tragedy that struck, an attack of a disease so deadly there was nothing to be done to save them, but of time before that. Of when he walked in the door, the sun bathing the entryway in a golden glow and of Callum and Axle racing to see him. He would set down his heavy bag full of mining supplies, and scoop them both up into his arms. Their tiny arms would encase him, and they would chatter about the new bug they found hopping in the grass by the farmhouse. Then he would let them go and walk over to Lydia, who by that time would be leaning on the doorway, with light shining on her golden blonde hair. His well worn steel-toed boots would thump on the wooden floor as he crossed over to her to pull her into his arms, and look into her eyes, almost the same colour as his own, just more beautiful. Then he would lean over her petite form and kiss her.
           The wind strengthened for a moment sending a chill right through his coverings, and knocking his mind back to the matter at hand, while reminding him that no such instances would ever happen again. The river had widened into a lake, and now all he had to do was walk around it. The lake was completely frozen over, and he briefly wondered if he dared to make a crossing. In the end he stepped out onto the ice and made his way across, testing the surface before placing his full weight on any one area. It was only in the middle of the frozen body of water that he had a problem. The ice split like a spider web and he quickly retracted his foot and moved around it. He made it across with no other problems.
        He started to work his way back upstream to the place he had started heading downstream. 'Go to the hills and round them and then head straight until two dawns have passed and you will find our brothers and sisters in the next village over.' He had decided to pass through the valley, as he believed it would be more efficient this way. Despite the warnings that had been repeated again and again to him, he had set his mind. He had vacated the small village, Erani, at first sight of dawn, not once glancing back at the place behind that had provided him with food for his journey to the hills that were far off in the distance. The wind was harsh walking all this way but as soon as he entered Yosemite Valley, it had died down considerably, until it was just a zephyr.
        That was when a loud crack thundered behind him and a sharp scream pierced the air and silence of the little valley. The man looked behind him and hurried to where the sound had come from. He ran as carefully and as quickly as he could on the ice closest to the bank. He felt his boots slip once or twice but that did not stop him. In a couple of minutes he reached the lake he had just crossed before. On the lake was a small, dark figure, one that scrambling to find purchase on the ice that surrounded the figure to pull them up and out of the water below. The man dropped his bag on this side of the lake before racing towards the drowning person. He wasted no time in reaching the figure, taking his hand and hoisting him up and out of the dark cold of the water below that shone from the moon above.
           The clothes were soaked through and dripping wet trails of water on the ice. The man pulled down the wet scarf, and it revealed a brown face of a boy he knew well. "Micah?" he said. "What are you doing here?"
           "I'm sorry, Mr Alacrity," he had a slight accent to his voice, "I just wanted to see what was so terrible about this place because there is all the stories and..." he trailed off after seeing the hardening of his eyes.
           "You should not be here. What would your mother have to say about this?" The man's head filled with all of the responsibilities this boy added to his shoulders. He could not just tell Micah to turn around and march back to his home. No, that would not be right. He would freeze in the condition he was in now, and not make it half way there. He knew that he would have to take the boy back, and add to his journey a few more days. Despite knowing this, he tried to find another solution, as he was not happy with what had been laid before him. Micah had placed the scarf over his mouth again, hoping to conserve warmth.
           Again, he looked at the boy, who was just reaching his adolescence, thirteen years of age and wet to the last piece of clothing. Before they continued, Micah would have to dry, otherwise he would freeze to death. And he would have to be the bearer of the grievous news.
           Then he heard a howl that echoed off the large hills. It was a sound that the man hadn't heard before in all of his years of roaming this land. He had fought off wolves, bears, and large cats, but none of them had made such a sound. It was haunting, the howl, and a chill in his bones that was not from the cold that surrounded him shook him. All he knew was that this was very, very, bad. Kindle took off from his perch on Alacrity's shoulders and into the air. His wings found the up drafts and he rose into the air with very little effort, until to the people below him, Kindle was just a speck in the sky.
           "It's, it is the beast from the stories, Mr Alacrity." Micah's eyes, the only skin showing, opened wide with fear.
           There was a second howl, and then a form appeared in the sky behind them. It had the body of a reptile, it's tail hanging below it. The wings were spread out and then flapped downwards, pushing it higher into the air until it's wingspan blocked out the moon. Shadow fell on them. They watched the silhouette of the creature with a curious fascination, one in which their eyes could not be torn from. It was beautiful.

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Hello. This is my story I created for my family as a Christmas present. When my sister said that I should put it on Watt Pad, I thought why not. So here it is.
The picture at the beginning is of Kindle, who is a red-tailed hawk.
Enjoy!!  :D