South (Crosspost from quotev)

Chapter 3

The bare fields were endless, more stubby remnants of plants and more discarded cobs of corn. In the dark of early morning his eyes scanned the land. Hariett was still sleeping, her feathers puffed up, perching on his head. Occasionally something like a giant beetle came growling down the hard dark path that cut across the land. He didn't go into the ditches on either side of the path, it was too loud there. Every once in a while he'd spot a deer's silhouette in the mist, heavy antlers like claws grabbing at the sky or it's neck bent to eat at left over seeds.

A field mouse came skittering across his paws. One second and instinctually he pounced. It was a mechanical motion, like muscle memory. It was quick and the lump of fur was dead on the cold ground. There wasn't even any blood. There was no going back from the action, he picked up the little body in his jaws and carried it with him, he'd eat with Hariett.

He found a rock and stood waiting for Harriet to rustle her feathers and wake up. It wasn't long before she was stirring in the short fur atop his head. When she fluttered down he overturned the rock and watched her scamper after pill bugs and pull worms from the soil. Why did he find nothing wrong with her eating bugs when he feels bad about eating a mouse? She's supposed to eat bugs, if she doesn't she might get sick or malnourished. He dropped the cold body of the mouse on the ground. How many days would it have to be left out in the elements before it was considered carrion? He shook his head, that was too dark. What had it's life been like before he...killed it, killed it without a thought. He shook his head again. Still too dark, he settled on whispering a thanks to the mouse for it's life and an apology for it's death.

He didn't realize how hungry he'd been. It wasn't much but it reminded him of the sunny days of summer when the spring teemed with life and the air was sweet with the scent of warm summer rain.

It reminded him of Zinnia and all the lessons she taught him.

"Remember Chirp, slow pawsteps,make sure you don't make a sound." She was crouched down on the muddy bank, slit eyes focused on the frog just a tail's length away. She readied her haunches before going in for the kill. It was practiced and quick like she'd done it a million times. It looked like a painless death for the frog. She padded back over to him with the limp body swinging from her jaws. "Let's eat this one togeather, shall we?" He was initially going to decline but he thought better of it. For all her lax attitude she worried about him. The fat frog was plopped on the ground and they settled down together. He felt bad about eating the body of another living creature but sharing it with her made him feel better about it somehow.

After their meal it was back to walking through endless rows of corn stumps and barren bean fields. His breath became fog and his paws slightly stung from the frosted ground but he kept going.

Cutting through rows of dead plants and fenced in areas holding in peaceful behemoths that could crush him with one step of their heavy cloven hooves were streams. He got close and sniffed at the lively chilled water rushing through. It was different from the water that flowed in his home spring that smelled sweet like the moss clinging to rocks near it and tasted like the rock it sprang from. It smelled of fresh soil and tasted like the pale grey clay that lined the sides of it and closed him in.

The sun in the middle of the sky was masked by thick cotton clouds that blotted out it's light. It would be safe to stop now, set up somewhere to sleep, find more food, and keep going in the morning. The days would only get longer though, colder as winter's venom fully set in. His bones ached to stop but he stood up.

"Rest on me Harriet. I'm going to keep going." She cocked her head.

"Why? This is a perfectly fine place to stop."

"It's only going to get colder, we have to get going before it's too hard to travel." There was anger in her beady black eyes.

"If we're going to be traveling for longer periods of time at least let me make something to rest in while you keep going."

"Alright." He slumped down on his stomach, it felt good to lay there and let his tired legs rest. The entire time he couldn't get rid of the nagging thought that he had to keep going.

When she was done there was a little nest in front of him.He poked it with his nose. "So how am I gonna carry this?" She hopped onto the bridge of his muzzle between his eyes.

"Right up here on your head, it'll be more comfortable than sitting up there with nothing." She dragged it up between his ears and settled in.

His legs were stiff, muscles protesting movement. The first few steps were stumbling as he adjusted to the blood flowing back through his limbs. The sun was lower in the sky but the clouds had yet to clear and give way to glinting stars and a pale moon. The walls surrounding the stream were deep and allowed the sounds of the water to bounce off and reverberate eerily. The scent of thick grey clay stuck in his nose and masked anything else. With no way of climbing up the steep cavern he took to travelling along the rocky bank until he found a dip in the wall low enough for him to climb out of. Once again his body wanted for him to stop, but he couldn't, not now. There was more ground he had to cover.

His eyes adjusted to the low light of the moon. His paws hurt, he could barely even register where he was. All he could do was scan the area for somewhere to stop and rest. His pelt rippled with the chill wind that came blowing at his back. In his mind he was pleading to be back in the familiar warm forest he knew, to be back with his flock. The dark seemed to form a loose labyrinth and cage him in. His head whipped around all ways in search for somewhere to go. A rotting tree trunk, prefect, he could stay there for the night. There was no checking for bugs, no search for bedding, he just settled down and let his eyes finally shut.