Skara Braens

Part 33

My apologies for the random week off I took.  I've been swamped with work and couldn't get to the story last week.  If I'm forgiven, please read on!

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Onward!

"Good morning," you say in greeting.  The eagle turns its head so that it can stare at you out of one golden-coloured eye.  It twitters again, shakes its head, and begins to groom its brown and white chest feathers.  You shake your head and return to peeling potatoes.

Good morning.

Your head snaps up and you stare at the eagle.  It has moved from preening its chest to picking at lice beneath its left wing.  Your eyes narrow, and you return to peeling.

Shapinsay.

Your head snaps up again, but the eagle isn't doing anything that eagles wouldn't do.  You watch as it nibbles in the gap between its toes on its left foot, then return to peeling.

Purple.

"What about the colour purple?" you murmur.

Pretty.

"Yes," you answer slowly, wondering if you've lost your mind.  "Purple is pretty."

Shapinsay.

You look up again and this time the eagle is looking at you.  There is something unnerving in its gaze, an intelligence that feels out of place in a bird.

"You alright, Iolaire?" Drest asks as he stirs a large pot by the fire.  "You're mumbling to yourself furiously over there."

"Fine," you answer.  "Just... thinking aloud."

Shapinsay. Shapinsay.

"We're going," you inform the bird.  "Soon. But we must make preparations.  Who are you anyway?"

Shapinsay.

"Well, that was informative.  Thank you. For the record, I'm called Iolaire."

Eagle.

"Yes, that's what it means."

Shapinsay.

"If you keep nagging, I'm going to stay here out of spite."

The eagle cocked its head to look at you from another angled before strutting into the kitchen proper.

"Hello!" Gabby said in her cheerful voice.  "Oh my!  What a pretty bird you are!"

You turn to Gabby, note her wide-eyes joy at seeing the eagle enter the kitchen, and smile.

Purple.

You snort a laugh, the sound coming out in a puff as a result of your trying to smother it.  Gabby and Drest look at you in surprise.

"Sorry," you mumble.  "I just thought of something amusing."

Drest looks from you to the bird, and then back to you.  "Stranger," he says slowly.  "Were you talking to the bird?"

Eagle.

Again you suppress a laugh at the eagle's correction.  You try to concentrate on peeling the potatoes.

"Were you?" Drest presses.

"Sure," you say.  "Why not.  It was right there."

"Did it answer?"

"That's an odd question."