Rise of the Last Ezriqua

one

Welcome to the start! The entire inspiration of this story came into a very recent dream! Enjoy!

"Where are we going, Papa?"
      It was a bright, hot summer morning. Two blue-eyed falcons were about to launch into flight, one of them being a two year old.
      "My dear Charlie, we are going to the Busy," the big, male falcon explained to the littler one. "Now be prepared to fly."
       Charlie shook her brown feathered head. "Papa, but why? I wanna knoooooooowwwwwww-"
      "Alright alright, we are going for... uh-"
       "A special trip? To visit Mommy? Is Mommy at the Bazy? I mean, the Bezy? No, the-"
      "SHUT UP!" roared Papa. "As Ezriquas, we aren't to be annoying. Leave that to the bright, arrogant, flamboyant parrots," he spits with hatred and disgust.
      Charlie snapped her golden yellow beak shut, annoyed. She mumbled something and they took off for their long trip.

"We're here," calls Papa out to Charlie, who was slowly flapping her brown, semi-large wings in exhaustion. She later landed on the red, hard, chipping thing so carelessly that Charlie would've fallen off.
The two year old Ezriqua shook her entire feathered body, and forced her dark blue eyes open. They widened in suprise, leaving Charlie in awe.
"Woah!" she exclaims, slightly fluttering as she turns to her Papa. "So many people! How do they even live in a Busy? I could never-"
"They just do, my darling. Now hush," squawks the older, father Ezriqua. "I am going to take you to somewhere specific."
The two rare breed of falcons took off once more, a chick and a full grown falcon.

      After about 30 minutes the very small family of two arrived at their destination, panting with tiredness, their feathers sagging as they perched on something thin somewhere.
      Across from Charlie and Papa were two other Ezriquas, them both adults falcons, one being a male and the other a female.
      "Took you long enough, John" spat the lad Ezriqua rudely. "Is this the two year old chick you were speaking about?" He shifted his huge, white and brown body, slightly shaking his large bird tail.
      Charlie's papa snorted. "Of course," he paused for a few seconds. "She's my only chick. And will be my only chick, obviously. Babies suck." Papa put slight great emphasis on the last word.
      John's daughter flinched at the ending sentence and wilted sadly, straying a few inches away from Papa. She felt hated.
      The female adult falcon hopped towards Charlie, wrapping her semi-big wings around the little one. "John, you offended your own chick. Don't be so rude, now." she chirped, in a un-Ezriqua way, suggesting that she was probably not full Ezriqua.
      Papa sighed, shutting his unique eyes and opening them after 3 seconds, which were suddenly watery and glassy looking. He shuffled toward his one and only chick, and a fat tear rolled down roughly down his soft feathers.
      "Be good, my little one," he whispers softly, his voice so gentle it could have belonged to a loving mama falcon. "Stay safe."
      Charlie looked up at her dad, her eyes shining in puzzlement. She tilted her head, ruffling and squashing her neck feathers on the right.
      "W-wha-what..?" she stutters, her eyes also filling with salty tears. "What do you mean... Papa? What's happening?"
John ignored her and turned to the full grown male Ezriqua, his tears gone. His voice was bold as he spoke, "Boomer, take care of my chick. Treat her with love, as if you were her father. And you," Papa turns to the female falcon, nodding his head. "You too, Ginny."
      Ginny returned the nod, and took Charlie in her wings again. Papa turned, his big, feathery tail facing the three Ezriquas. He shuffles his body, preparing his flight, and then looks over his shoulder, at his daughter. The father waves a  sad goodbye, his tears returning.
      Then he takes off, into the gloomy sunset, leaving Charlie in big, wet tears.