Leon and the Magical Bird

Chapter 1. The Enemy I Fear the Most is at my Door

The redolence of the air was electric, warm and humid. Wisps of warm air rustled through the leaves, brushing lightly against my skin, coursing through my leather shoulder pads. I gripped the bow tightly, crouching amongst the flora. It would rain soon, and lightning would follow; I could taste it in the air. When the rain came, the flora of the forest would become heavy with rain, and the fauna would seek shelter in the trees, burrows and nests of the forest. Once the storm set in, the animals would run to their shelters, and hunting them would become nigh on impossible.

In desperate times, I'd hunted in the rain, but the rain made my bow string slippery, and the wind and rain obscured my vision.

I needed to take this shot, and it needed to be successful. I watched the bird as it ruffled its feathers, perched upon the tree branch, twitching its head intermittently.

I pulled back my bowstring, taking aim. One sudden gust of wind might knock my arrow askew; a shot from this distance was difficult, but I'd succeeded against tougher odds. From my vantage point among the brush, the bird was unaware of my presence. I crept through the forest like a ghost, undetected by the animals I chased; and yet, my nerves threw me off guard. My arm wobbled slightly; I had to take this shot -and it had to hit. I couldn't come home to my father empty-handed.

The wind softened, I took aim, and released the bowstring. The arrow soared through the air deftly, striking the bird in the wing. The bird fell from the tree, twitching on the ground. I crept over, quickly but silently. The arrow had gone straight through, but my nerves and the wind had thrown the shot off slightly. As I gripped the twitching bird, I could see the panic manifested in its eyes. Its beak opened and closed quickly. Usually, my skills were such that I could kill my target with one shot, but today I'd failed. I reached down quickly, gripping the bird by the neck and snapping it quickly. The wings fell limp, and the beak closed.

In my younger days as a hunter, many of my shots had missed; or worse, left the animal twitching and suffering. That's why it was imperative to make the kill as quickly as possible; not just to end its suffering, but because twitching, injured animals might attract the attention of another predator, which might sweep in and carry your prey away for themselves.

Lately, my skills had been failing me. There were times when this forest contained deer and other, larger prey, but the herds had moved on as more hunters had pursued them. These days, I settled for large birds.

I threw the bird's limp body into my satchel and made my way back to the house. A crack of lightning in the sky informed that my day of hunting had come to an end. I had to get back home to father before the rain began to pour; pluck and prepare the birds and feed him before night fell.

A bitter loneliness crept upon me as I made my way back through the forest, my bow slung upon my shoulder and my satchel of birds in my hand. I could cook these up into a hearty stew, with carrots and potatoes, and any other vegetables we had available. Hopefully, this would restore father's vitality just a little longer.

As I returned home, I looked across to my father, whose eyes opened as I entered. His smile was warm.

"Oh Leon." He croaked, "Thank the gods you're home. It sounds like a storm is on its way."

I smiled at him, knowing he could not see it.

"Don't worry father," I said warmly, "I've caught half a dozen birds, give me some time to prepare them and I'll make you a hearty stew. Help you to get your strength back."

He shuffled in his bed uncomfortably, "Don't trouble yourself too much son." He spoke softly, "I'm not too hungry, and you need to eat too."

When he said things like that, it filled me with worry. Lately he'd been eating smaller and smaller portions of food. Sometimes, I'd cook up a stew and feed it to him, but he'd only manage to drink the liquid parts, leaving all the meat and vegetables behind. He complained that it ached to chew.