That Don’t Impress Me Much : Part 43

  • Post category:Writing

Wordcount: 586 words
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Summary: Surviving the storm is only the beginning of their problems.

NOTE: This is the first draft of a story, so it will most likely contain plot holes, retcons, and other inconsistencies. I’ll come back and fix things once the story (or arc) is complete!

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Cold, Hungry, Tired 

Once everyone was awake again it turned out none of the other humans remembered anything after the flash of the shield going up and they had no idea what that was, so at least that part of the secret was safe. Even if they were not quite sure what the secret was.

They were pretty much trapped in the circle of downed trees and they could not hear anyone else over the storm.

Erwin climbed the side of the nest and looked out. Nothing could be seen that far because of the rain, but the whole forest looked like it had been destroyed. even if they got out of the nest walking would be next to impossible.

So they sat and waited for rescue, or for things to dry out enough that the foxhawks could fly again.

The rain did not stop for three days. After the first night of waiting for rescue and no sign of anything coming, they climbed out anyways. They got bearings from the distant smudge of mountains on one horizon and started walking. They did not see anything else alive on the second day, but managed to find the remains of a deer that was not too far gone to eat. It had been killed by a falling tree and they ate it raw. Nothing in the forest burned so they could not make fire.

They were wet and cold and miserable by the time they made it out to the edges of the forest destruction. they still had not seen anyone.

The cities outside the forest had not fared any better. In many cases the trees fell into the building and destroyed what the winds did not tear apart. But here they could see signs that people had been scavenging and they managed to find the large semi refugee camp that had formed.

They got wind slicks, but no dry clothes since there were not any to be had. They got cold food, but it was food. The deer they found was not the only one that killed by the storm and the edges of the forest had been scavenged for food.

They hid the golden hatchling, since they were not sure if they folks would blame it and the foxhawks stayed out of sight once they realized there were no other foxhawks in the camp.

There was some question where the others had gone, but it was pretty obvious the whole warren had taken off by themselves.

Clarie was still very upset over Softpaw’s leaving and the dynamic between Dog and Baron and Winter had shifted. Dog sided with the golden on everything and was shunning Baron but only by disagreeing with everything he said. Winter was just really really confused. And the golden was young and in pain and a general pain in the ass to be around.

The golden did not have a name and when Baron asked him he just sniffed and said names were for things there were more than one of. Which was rude.

May decided to call him something that meant spoiled brat, or just brat for short and he objected strenuously. Dog took his side and demanded they pick something not insulting.

Historically the golden foxhawks were just called after the people they took as riders. Johnshawk, Jillshawk, but May refused to call him Mayshawk since it has not hers.

They finally settled on Herald, since Omen sounded too doomtastic. But Omen sounds less like Harold and that is better I think.

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Martha Bechtel

My name is Martha Bechtel and I write fantasy and science fiction stories, paint small model horses silly colors, cast resin and plaster magnets, code random code (and Wordpress plugins)... Come on in and join in the fun!