Cold comes in Event: Migratory Birds Roleplay Raffle
Prompt 6. follow the birds
Prompt 6. follow the birds
Try-Fair gazed at the sky, his eyes searching for those familiar winged forms that passed by. Some birds he saw once a season, others were daily inhabitants of the swampy bushes and tree canopies.
Regardless of whether they were coming or going, it served him well to watch the patterns of bird-flight.
If startled, perhaps danger (or a jokester who wished to mess with locals and disturb their rest) was near. If resting, all was well.
He saw some that came once in a great while, many moons, to mark the end of a season. That last emphasis, the final farewell as they moved to other, warmer places- perhaps beyond the swamp itself. Watching for them was his way of saying goodbye.
Seasons changed, birds moved on, and here he stayed- at home, watching them leave and return to punctuate shifts of season.
He found them a much more subtle breed, more in tune with nature's changes and the coming of seasons than his own kind. At least, in tune enough to almost seem prophetic.
But he was sure, if he listened and watched closely, and felt the world around him, he too could find that cue that meant Look up. We're coming.
See us go; see us come.
And say Goodbye. for now.
Things, like birds, always return.
He wondered, briefly, whether it might be worthwhile to ever follow those migratory birds. But, then, what reason beyond idle curiosity would he ever have to leave the swamp?
This was his Home.
He was comfortable here.
He glanced back at some smaller birds, those that stayed close to their own nests, and smiled. Well, if he did not follow the great birds, perhaps from watching and observing these little guys would he glean some shard of wisdom.
Flicking to and fro, they darted after bugs and other delights of nourishment and went about their business with all due caution. Little heads tilting on stubby necks, turning this way and that as they ignored (for the most part) the large buck that had stood so quietly watching for some time, listening nonetheless for signs of danger.
At the first sign, they'd flee.
But they'd be back.
He wondered idly if any predators had noticed that pattern, and sighed to himself. Perhaps it was best if he did not follow these birds.
They hardly moved at all.
But, should ever a time come when these and others that stayed in the swamp fled, oh yes... he would follow the birds.
The first to take flight sometimes has good reason.
And he was not fool enough to disregard the cues of the natural world.
Changes in light, foliage, season, and behavior of other animals around him.
Those that paid heed to such things could often subvert disaster.
And yet, sometimes the living beings behaved strangely for no apparent reason at all.
He smiled, thinking of the antics of other kin.
Well, perhaps, to them, there was reason. He just couldn't see, or understand the workings of their mind.
Just as the birds had some unseen, to him (most of the time), subtle spark that set them aflight.
He moved, and the birds took flight. Goodbye.
