A Follow Up Short Story: A Race For Life

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LandStriker glided through the air, wind ruffling his black and tan feathers. He enjoyed the warm air in the early morning. The sunrise directly in front of him splashed yellows, pinks, and purple all together, like ingredients of a soup being blended together to create a masterpiece of cooking.

He peered down to the ground, his hawk-eye vision like a scope, seeing even the tiniest details on the ground. He looked for only a few minutes before spotting a plump mouse, scurrying down below in a sea of lush tall grass. The mouse was moving parallel to the Dark Forest, a place avoided by all, including LandStriker. Peregrine Falcons weren’t exactly the cowardly type, but the things said about the forest were enough to keep him away.

He focused back on the mouse. It was moving quickly and was hard to keep sight of in the tall grass. He began to flap faster and faster. Then he tucked his wind wings to his side. The wind rushed passed him as he dove at incredible speeds. The ground drew near rapidly; the grey mouse grew into focus. LandStriker extended his talons, preparing for the grab. Suddenly the mouse was on a body. Startled, LandStriker slowed, but the action was too late. His talons tore through flesh, ripping off hunks of meat.

LandStriker pulled his talons back quickly making sure not to get them caught in the body. His landing was rough and shook him up a bit. He spun his neck around, eying the body. It was dead. A tan cat of large size. He hopped to its face. A cougar it appeared. Small pink nose, whiskers, large teeth. He flapped over to its side. The claws were retracted. This animal had not been expecting an attack.

The falcon expected the wounds of the cat. Huge claw marks ripped through both hind legs. The bone was exposed on the left leg and most of the hind part of the animal was matted in drying blood. This attack had happened recently. The buzzards nor flies and gnats had come yet.

Something larger had been the attacker, probably another larger cat. But how much longer LandStriker couldn’t tell. He sighed heavily. A wasted death. A powerful animal he could tell by the muscular hips and shoulders. And there had never even been a chance for defense.

He began ripping up grass, covering the dead beast. When it was done he flew off, back to his home forest nearby. Twenty minutes later he returned with twelve more falcons. Together they lifted the cat from its legs and carried it back to his forest. They found an empty log and placed it in there. Then they covered the logs with leaves, grass, dirt, and twigs, sealing it off.

LandStriker let out a cry. This wasn’t the first beast he had found slain. It saddened his heart every time. This death was a limit to him. He called for his troop of trained Peregrine Falcons. Twenty falcons arrived within minutes, beaks and talons sharp, ready for battle. And battle they would go to. Forget the myths and tales. The hours of the Dark Forest fears were numbered.

I promised it wouldn't be so long! But what do you think? Was the outcome a bit dreary, a bit sad! You do realize who the big cat was, don't you? >.> In all honesty though, thanks for checking out today's post. See you tomorrow!!

~SarChi