Predatorial Song Bird

3. Curious Song Bird

The day grew darker with each passing moment, with night announcing its arrival with the soft cries of nocturnal beings.

As the nearby city settled down, the once deafening symphony of cars, people, and animals now lulled to a gentle hum, an industrial hummingbird feasting upon the nectar buried deep within the night's inky petals.

The forest, however, did not grow silent. Instead, it grew louder by the minute with the night's creatures replacing their relatively unobtrusive daytime contemporaries. As stars grew, visible owls took flight, and a small child sat, perched upon a branch, their wings wrapped around their wiry form to retain heat that not even the tattered long-sleeved shirt they wore could keep.

From atop that branch, they gaze up into the sky, their bi-colored gaze flitting from star to star. The usual light pollution that accompanied living near cities didn't exist here, deep within the forest depths, far away from the cruelty of the humans and their capitals.

Soft trills, chirps, coos, and whistles, wove together to create a gentle melody resembling a lullaby of sorts. From where this small child learned such a melodic cacophony is unknown, but the song they created brought a nuance of peace to the forest.

While others may view nature as harsh, brutal, or unfair, the truth is far more beautiful.

The killing of animals is antithetical to the twisted pleasure humans may find within the practice. For animals, it is for survival and equilibrium. Any destabilization of the carefully crafted balance would result in the reign of chaos.

Unlike humans, animals coexisted somewhat peacefully. For nature to maintain equity, it gives and takes as needed. Too much or too little could be devastating.

The small child knew this, as the animalistic facet of them whispered of the balance in a way only they understood. They would hunt when needed, but only enough to survive. To ensure the survival of other species, they offered up their services to seek out foster mothers.

The child only knew of the forest and their supposed mother's voice from a time before their current home. Living in the forest meant abiding by the laws of nature; those who disregarded them were outsiders who dealt with the often violent repercussions.

The small, winged child knew about the forest and understood its idiosyncrasies. Only the animals knew of their achievements as the supposed forest guardian, and soon so would the humans.

The child never meant to involve themself in human affairs. Still, muffled cries near their resting spot deep within the forest prompted their curiosity and apprehension. They spread their wings, feeling the crisp night air trace their feathery appendages. With a small coo, they swiveled their head towards the source of the cry. They concluded the wailing creature's location to be further away than they thought. The breeze continuously carried the distressing noise to their receptive ears as they shifted to a crouch.

Using a branch as a kickoff point, they allowed their wings to assist them in reaching the next tree. Flying was risky due to their sleep deprivation, so traveling by branch hopping proved safer and less taxing.

~☆~

The cries reverberated as the child neared the forest edge. The closeness of the city earned a vigilant fluff of their feathers.

As they neared the cries, they began to hear soft voices speaking with tones vicious enough to cause a spike of alarm to course through them.

They leaped to another tree, landing on a branch above a small human child - seemingly male by scent and figure - who looked unable to speak. The winged child's brows furrowed as they were able to make out a muzzle around the child's mouth. They only knew about the contraptions due to stray cats that had occasionally wandered into the forest with them strapped to their faces. They understood that muzzles were to keep creatures from biting, their lip twitching in anger over the ridiculous reasoning for such a stifling invention.

They opted to wait and observe before diving into the child's rescue, crouching on the branch and leaving their wings open.

They watched the owners of the other voices step towards the muzzled boy as what looked to be another child conjured an odd light from their palm. The bright flames glowed a pale orange, illuminating the surrounding area. Even with night vision, it was hard for the winged child to make out the entire situation. Their night vision was limited, so the flame lighting up the area gave their eyes a much-needed rest.

Due to the inability to comprehend their language, they were unable to understand what they were saying. Judging from the but from the muzzled boy's reaction, however, it wasn't anything good. The child with the flame in their hands walked closer to the scared child to burn him. Now that the light was closer to the boy with the muzzle, they could easily make out his appearance.

His skin was pale and littered with wounds ranging from simple burns to a multitude of slashes. The winged child shifted their gaze to the other children, taking a moment to observe them. They saw a child with a whip-like tail, blood from the other figures trailing behind them. Their clothing consisted of tattered shorts and long sleeves, possibly battle-worn.

From their crouched position, the winged child cooed softly and sadly. They didn't like seeing a young one hurt.

Moving from the boy's body and clothing, they focused on his face. Purple eyes were misty with fear, tears streaming down his face as he pushed back into the tree trunk behind him. He possessed untamed purple hair that matched his eyes.

The entire scene sent shivers down the crouched child's spine. Their wings twitched, rustling the feathers and the leaves around them.

Since they weren't proficient in fighting with creatures other than the forest's animals, they instead opted to use their talent in mimicry.