It had become something of a ritual for her, this odd quirk of hers.
She sat on the edge of a cliff, her bright eyes reflecting the stars above, ever-silent, ever-watchful. It had been moons since she expected anything to become of it. Moons since she expected him to come barreling out of the sky and back where he should be, back with them. One could only hope for so long, after all. And hope was fickle. It slipped through the paws like water, despite any desperate attempt to cling to it, it was just gone. Talons nor teeth could control it, no matter the muscle mass of the one who sought to hold it. No words could tie it down, no commitment or obligation too strong to keep it from trickling away and disappearing altogether.
He was very much like water himself, she decided.
Light crept up the dark sky, tendrils of pink and orange bleeding through and blending with the inky blue night, turning everything a vibrant mix of colors. The stars subsided, fading away into the backdrop to give the sunrise its due chance to shine in their wake. She stepped out, away from the outcropping of rock above her head. Out into the light. She puffed out her chest, allowing the underwhelming frill adorning her throat to catch the light, watching as the undesirable plainness of it shifted to that of bright oranges and pinks. The vibrant colors lit up her dull grey-and-white feathers, dancing across the fibers like fire, giving them the illusion of beauty. She was not beautiful, she knew. Not without the aid of the sunrise.
"Get away from there." The snapping of jaws and the sharp words drew Birchfluff away from the edge of the cliff. She retreated sulkily back to her mother's side, sinking back on her haunches a short distance away. Steely yellow eyes were narrowed at her—she could feel them scrutinizing her frame, even as her back was turned. Feathers prickling with unease, she twisted around to face the cleite that had birthed her.
While Birchfluff's feathers were plain whites and greys, the cleite before her held her head high to expose the vibrant red that painted her throat. Birchfluff might have been jealous if the origin of such a rich color had been more of a mystery to her. She watched somberly as the blood slipped through her mother's lips, sliding down her throat and chest, pooling at her paws. Her mother was gravely ill, quarantined here, marooned on this rock away from the Clan, alone save for Birchfluff, who had long since learned how poor her company truly was. Even so, her mother's eyes were warm as they met her own.
"Some days I'm afraid you'll fall." Her voice broke, and Birchfluff's heart went out to her.
"I won't," the young cleite promised. "I won't ever leave you," she added in a whisper, because she thought perhaps her mother needed to hear it. Or perhaps she did.
"You can't promise that." The words were broken, split apart by a fit of coughing. Blood bubbled at the elder's lips, spilling over, splattering the ground with crimson droplets. Birchfluff steeled herself as it trickled toward her paws. She felt nausea pound at her skull, but she willed herself not to flee. It would be so, so easy. But it would not be fair. It would not be right.
"I raised you since you were a chick, a wee newborn. You've always had your head in the clouds. Nothing could keep you tethered here, not even me."
Birchfluff chuckled, choking on it as it morphed into a sob. "Don't be silly," she reassured, plastering on an optimistic smile. "You've done so much for me—I owe you my life."
Her mother laughed, her head tipped forward so that she would not choke on the blood should it get caught in her throat. "Birchfluff, you stupid chick," she chided fondly. "Now is not the time for that. You're young. Save life debts for when you're my age. Older, if you can. Besides, you raised yourself as much as I raised you. If not more." Her tone became quiet, regretful, and talons tugged at Birchfluff's heartstrings. "You owe me nothing."
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Birchfluff's grin faltered. It was true—she had noticed a distinct lack of her mother's presence growing up, but..they had both dealt with the... loss.. of Birchfluff's father differently. Birchfluff had convinced herself that she was happy enough without him, that her mother's love would always be enough. Her mother, alternatively, had thrown herself into her tasks, taking on both her own jobs and those that would have been her mate's responsibility. Birchfluff in turn had stepped up to meet her halfway—she learned self-control and independence. She learned social skills and how to treat other cleites. She learned everything that she saw the other chicks learn from their mothers, and she did it on her own. Her mother had provided her food to eat and a warm nest to sleep in at night—Birchfluff couldn't have asked for anything more. But her mother clearly did not feel the same. Shoulders hunched, eyes dark with exhaustion, grief lining her face..this was perhaps the worst Birchfluff had ever seen her.
"It's okay," she interrupted when her mother opened her mouth to speak. "No cat could've done better in your situation. And look, I turned out fine, see?" She punctuated her words with another cheery smile, and her mother chuckled weakly back.
"Yes..yes you did." She reached up with her chin, and Birchfluff ducked down to let her mother nuzzle the top of her head. "You're alright, kiddo.."
Wind whistled through the rock formations on either side of their own, and Birchfluff pulled away to glance at the sky. It had gone a deep grey. Tiny ice crystals blew around in the fierce air currents, their size and quantity increasing as the seconds ticked by. Birchfluff was torn, unsure if she ought to go out and hunt whole the storm was manageable of if it'd be best to just lie low for a bit. A shiver from the cleite beside her was all it took for her to make her decision.
She curled her own body around her mother's, despite that she was still dwarfed considerably by the older cleite. "It's okay," she repeated quietly, once more optimistic. She began to wash her mother's head with great long rasps of her tongue. "We'll be okay. Together, we're okay."
..It was not three days later that Birchfluff returned to the den, a fish clamped firmly in her jaws, to discover the space devoid of moment, the stench of death hanging heavy in the air in its place.
And it was okay.
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Characters: Birchfluff: osprey-based cleite, white, grey, and black with orange eyes. Unnamed 'she': Birchfluff's mother, raised her chick alone, now deathly ill with an unknown disease (not really a solid character, but thrown in there for sake of a plot) Unnamed 'he': Birchfluff's father, left her and her mother when she was born because he didn't feel ready for such a commitment (not really a solid character, but thrown in there for sake of a plot)
Terminology: Cleite: A closed species created by Fern on WA -fluff: The suffix used by cleites for apprentices in place of -paw Frill: The feathers around a cleite's neck that determine the attractiveness of the cleite—the larger/more colorful, the more attractive the cleite is considered Chick: The cleites' term for their young in place of 'kit' Talons: A cleite's claws
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Y'all I love my osprey kiddo so much ;-; Oh, and, if you're confused/curious about something having to do with cleites' way of life or anything, I could probably tell you because I know way too much about them now :')
