38th of Ymiden, 718
“This is hard, Curio! Stop laughing!”
Clawed hands tried to manipulate the hemp rope, the manipulation of it rubbing her hands raw. Navyri made another whining sound, not in the mood to be mature when her familiar made amused clicking sounds with its tongue. She glared at the avian, pouting as she created a noose, “I should make a net to capture you,” she grumbled scooting her butt forward on the floor of the library. Normally she wouldn’t lower herself so literally, but she needed more room than the mahogany tables provided, “You’re being mean, you know…”
A book laid sprawled out with dark print in clear precise letters. It looked to be a newer printing, the pages unsullied with time. Navyri leaned over it, using her elbow to scoot aside a single nel being used as a bookmark, chewing her lip while she read.
“Blah blah blah…” she muttered, scanning the page, “If you are in a hostile environment, trap concealment is importation…. Disturbances can alert nearby wildlife. If you must dig, remove fresh dirt from area… blah blah blah…” Blue eyes bounced back and forth, eyebrows raising when she read something quite interesting.
‘Freshly cut vegetation will “bleed” sap that has an odor the prey will be able to smell. It’s an alarm signal to the animal.’
That was actually useful and made a lot of sense. But simple plants were capable of such things? “Good thing I’m interesting in catching something else, hm?” she looked up at the bird who was now grooming himself, head bobbing beneath a wing while he smoothed out unsightly feathers. Couldn’t dare have one of those, could we? IOt was because of this he missed her secretive wink and her shoulders dropped, “Curio, are you paying attention?”
At the sound of his name, the owl kept his wing lifted but turned its head completely, dark orbs peering down at her from being perched on the back of a chair. He opened his beak and then burrowed his head again, plucking out a mouthful of feathers and spitting them out, the downy floating through the air before seeking solace in her hair.
Navyri gasped, trying to swat at the many calamus but they denied her touch and landed upon her and her book. She tried to blow them away but they kept coming back, sticking to the back of her hand, her shirt, her cheek, “Are you serious?” She tried to shake them away, increasing in ferocity until only one remained atop her head (unbeknownst to her). Glaring, she held her tongue, crossing her arms over her chest and pointedly scooted so that she did not face him. He was teasing her too much today. It was bordering on rude.
The manual began a chapter on the importance of using bait, which made sense to her, but that she wasn’t quite looking for in that moment. She licked her finger and turned the page. More bait. More bait… Which bait to use when… By Delroth, how long was this chapter? “I get it,” she hissed, perking up when she noticed a topic change.
“Here we go…”
She began to read, “You must remove or mask human scent on the trap you set. Although birds do not have a developed sense of smell…” Navyri smirked in smug satisfaction, “Mammals typically rely more on their sense of smell than even sight. The slightest human scent on a trap will alarm the prey and cause it to avoid the area...”
Bare hands loosened on the rope, “Whoops.” She grimaced and blushed, embarrassed she must have forgotten such a vital detail. ‘This is just practice,’ she thought, ‘Humans still can’t smell me.’ To make sure, she lifted the rope to her nose and took in two sharp inhales.
Curio clicked his beak again, the winds of amusement rolling into her consciousness - Laughter.
Navyri reared back and tossed knotted end of the rope towards the bird. Spotting her attack, he flapped his wings and flew across the room in a flurry fluttering wings. She reached for the end of the rope and began pulling the rest of it towards her for another go.
The Naer was smiling now, having found a new game far more entertaining than simply studying and prepared for another attack. Curio opened his pinions wide, their lovely coloring flashy against the backdrop of patterned wallpaper. She felt the flash of rebellion as she saw it in his eyes. He too was having fun, the meaning of his body clear. Navyri had known the avian long enough to have seen his playful side.
Curio was challenging her and feeding off the tension. The same tension one might see in a lover’s eyes before they descended with unrelenting fingers to tickle, digging under ribs and grabbing thighs, neglectful to cries of truce. Curio would continue to pester her, usually until she could catch him or smother him affectionately in some fashion.
The tables needed to be turned.
She smiled deviously. Lasso now in hand, she pocketed the nel and pushed the book aside. Curio still stood posed, waiting. Familiars communicated differently with their charge and while he didn’t use words like one human might use with another, he sent her threads of emotion or flashes of what he saw when either of them wished. If he could speak, she already knew what vanity he would spew.
You dare think you could ever capture me?
That you are in control?
You dare think?
Strangely, she imagined the mocking voice of Delroth.
Navyri moved so that she was on her hands and knees, prowling like panther until her own wings began to flutter in warning of their opening. The room was quaint and fairly private in the vast Scalvoris library, lined with tomes and lit well by a chandelier. A moderate table was stacked with reading material she intended to go through herself, surrounded by four other chairs. The room was often used for a place to hold study group, or read without disturbance, and in this case, practice a craft better left for the outdoors.
And, of course, to catch a bird.
She opened her wings partially, the furniture not allowing for a full display. Curio bobbed in acceptance and she swung the noose, trying to control it with failed success. Curio swooped downward, bringing his talons close to her face - just to show that he could, she knew. Arrogant creature! - and then soared back up and out of reach. Again she meant to bring the loop around his body, perhaps his feet and pull. Not to hurt him. Never that.
She threw the noose and it snaked through the air, grabbing on the back of a chair. She launched it again. It grabbed at the light fixture. After that, it smacked some books from the safety of the shelves. They dropped to the floor in a loud clatter as Curio laughed over the noise.
She turned quickly, anticipating where he would fly next and scrambled to try one last time. The next time he tried to fly from her clutches, she tossed it to his next destination, pleased in his back-peddling. She jumped onto the chair and propelled herself forward, arms outstretched.
Curio flew right into them and she landed soundly to wrestle with the bird. He flapped wildly in her arms while she gripped at his body, her own laughter sounding in victory. She buried him against her chest, nuzzling the creature while he nipped at her shirt in agitation, “You see?” she sighed, needing to catch her breath, “You see why I can’t get anything done? It’s you! All your fault.”
The Naer held his wings against his body until he begrudgingly relaxed, a flurry of kisses being planted firmly atop his head in the meantime, “You’re too distracting.”
All was forgiven. The sound of her breathing was soon the only thing to hear in the small space, Curio having now gotten quite comfortable in her arms. He was in no need of sleep (he never was), but it reminded them both of how they first got to know one another. Such a fond memory after the traumas in her childhood made it a special moment for the young woman, and she lowered herself back to the floor to lean against the wall, cradling her companion.
With a motherly gentleness so rare to her character, Navyri stroked the pad of her thumb along the small space between his eyes and then down his neck, “You’re my best friend,” she confided with a soft reverence, the time around them slowing, “You matter so much to me. When I thought I lost you…” The day their bond had gone silent. when she couldn't see if he was safe. A terrifying moment in a horrible event. She kissed him again.
The owl gave a slow blink, nudging her hands to continue their worship when they stopped. Such a tender gesture, it made her throat catch, “My only friend..” She bowed her head, her forehead resting atop his, “My flock.”
Word Count: 1515
“This is hard, Curio! Stop laughing!”
Clawed hands tried to manipulate the hemp rope, the manipulation of it rubbing her hands raw. Navyri made another whining sound, not in the mood to be mature when her familiar made amused clicking sounds with its tongue. She glared at the avian, pouting as she created a noose, “I should make a net to capture you,” she grumbled scooting her butt forward on the floor of the library. Normally she wouldn’t lower herself so literally, but she needed more room than the mahogany tables provided, “You’re being mean, you know…”
A book laid sprawled out with dark print in clear precise letters. It looked to be a newer printing, the pages unsullied with time. Navyri leaned over it, using her elbow to scoot aside a single nel being used as a bookmark, chewing her lip while she read.
“Blah blah blah…” she muttered, scanning the page, “If you are in a hostile environment, trap concealment is importation…. Disturbances can alert nearby wildlife. If you must dig, remove fresh dirt from area… blah blah blah…” Blue eyes bounced back and forth, eyebrows raising when she read something quite interesting.
‘Freshly cut vegetation will “bleed” sap that has an odor the prey will be able to smell. It’s an alarm signal to the animal.’
That was actually useful and made a lot of sense. But simple plants were capable of such things? “Good thing I’m interesting in catching something else, hm?” she looked up at the bird who was now grooming himself, head bobbing beneath a wing while he smoothed out unsightly feathers. Couldn’t dare have one of those, could we? IOt was because of this he missed her secretive wink and her shoulders dropped, “Curio, are you paying attention?”
At the sound of his name, the owl kept his wing lifted but turned its head completely, dark orbs peering down at her from being perched on the back of a chair. He opened his beak and then burrowed his head again, plucking out a mouthful of feathers and spitting them out, the downy floating through the air before seeking solace in her hair.
Navyri gasped, trying to swat at the many calamus but they denied her touch and landed upon her and her book. She tried to blow them away but they kept coming back, sticking to the back of her hand, her shirt, her cheek, “Are you serious?” She tried to shake them away, increasing in ferocity until only one remained atop her head (unbeknownst to her). Glaring, she held her tongue, crossing her arms over her chest and pointedly scooted so that she did not face him. He was teasing her too much today. It was bordering on rude.
The manual began a chapter on the importance of using bait, which made sense to her, but that she wasn’t quite looking for in that moment. She licked her finger and turned the page. More bait. More bait… Which bait to use when… By Delroth, how long was this chapter? “I get it,” she hissed, perking up when she noticed a topic change.
“Here we go…”
She began to read, “You must remove or mask human scent on the trap you set. Although birds do not have a developed sense of smell…” Navyri smirked in smug satisfaction, “Mammals typically rely more on their sense of smell than even sight. The slightest human scent on a trap will alarm the prey and cause it to avoid the area...”
Bare hands loosened on the rope, “Whoops.” She grimaced and blushed, embarrassed she must have forgotten such a vital detail. ‘This is just practice,’ she thought, ‘Humans still can’t smell me.’ To make sure, she lifted the rope to her nose and took in two sharp inhales.
Curio clicked his beak again, the winds of amusement rolling into her consciousness - Laughter.
Navyri reared back and tossed knotted end of the rope towards the bird. Spotting her attack, he flapped his wings and flew across the room in a flurry fluttering wings. She reached for the end of the rope and began pulling the rest of it towards her for another go.
The Naer was smiling now, having found a new game far more entertaining than simply studying and prepared for another attack. Curio opened his pinions wide, their lovely coloring flashy against the backdrop of patterned wallpaper. She felt the flash of rebellion as she saw it in his eyes. He too was having fun, the meaning of his body clear. Navyri had known the avian long enough to have seen his playful side.
Curio was challenging her and feeding off the tension. The same tension one might see in a lover’s eyes before they descended with unrelenting fingers to tickle, digging under ribs and grabbing thighs, neglectful to cries of truce. Curio would continue to pester her, usually until she could catch him or smother him affectionately in some fashion.
The tables needed to be turned.
She smiled deviously. Lasso now in hand, she pocketed the nel and pushed the book aside. Curio still stood posed, waiting. Familiars communicated differently with their charge and while he didn’t use words like one human might use with another, he sent her threads of emotion or flashes of what he saw when either of them wished. If he could speak, she already knew what vanity he would spew.
You dare think you could ever capture me?
That you are in control?
You dare think?
Strangely, she imagined the mocking voice of Delroth.
Navyri moved so that she was on her hands and knees, prowling like panther until her own wings began to flutter in warning of their opening. The room was quaint and fairly private in the vast Scalvoris library, lined with tomes and lit well by a chandelier. A moderate table was stacked with reading material she intended to go through herself, surrounded by four other chairs. The room was often used for a place to hold study group, or read without disturbance, and in this case, practice a craft better left for the outdoors.
And, of course, to catch a bird.
She opened her wings partially, the furniture not allowing for a full display. Curio bobbed in acceptance and she swung the noose, trying to control it with failed success. Curio swooped downward, bringing his talons close to her face - just to show that he could, she knew. Arrogant creature! - and then soared back up and out of reach. Again she meant to bring the loop around his body, perhaps his feet and pull. Not to hurt him. Never that.
She threw the noose and it snaked through the air, grabbing on the back of a chair. She launched it again. It grabbed at the light fixture. After that, it smacked some books from the safety of the shelves. They dropped to the floor in a loud clatter as Curio laughed over the noise.
She turned quickly, anticipating where he would fly next and scrambled to try one last time. The next time he tried to fly from her clutches, she tossed it to his next destination, pleased in his back-peddling. She jumped onto the chair and propelled herself forward, arms outstretched.
Curio flew right into them and she landed soundly to wrestle with the bird. He flapped wildly in her arms while she gripped at his body, her own laughter sounding in victory. She buried him against her chest, nuzzling the creature while he nipped at her shirt in agitation, “You see?” she sighed, needing to catch her breath, “You see why I can’t get anything done? It’s you! All your fault.”
The Naer held his wings against his body until he begrudgingly relaxed, a flurry of kisses being planted firmly atop his head in the meantime, “You’re too distracting.”
All was forgiven. The sound of her breathing was soon the only thing to hear in the small space, Curio having now gotten quite comfortable in her arms. He was in no need of sleep (he never was), but it reminded them both of how they first got to know one another. Such a fond memory after the traumas in her childhood made it a special moment for the young woman, and she lowered herself back to the floor to lean against the wall, cradling her companion.
With a motherly gentleness so rare to her character, Navyri stroked the pad of her thumb along the small space between his eyes and then down his neck, “You’re my best friend,” she confided with a soft reverence, the time around them slowing, “You matter so much to me. When I thought I lost you…” The day their bond had gone silent. when she couldn't see if he was safe. A terrifying moment in a horrible event. She kissed him again.
The owl gave a slow blink, nudging her hands to continue their worship when they stopped. Such a tender gesture, it made her throat catch, “My only friend..” She bowed her head, her forehead resting atop his, “My flock.”
Word Count: 1515
