“They laid a fire for you already and looks like they started it, but it's banked now. I brought you in some firewood, and I'll just get it going again so you don't wake up cold.” I made a quiet protest, but he shot it down.”Nope, not listening to any of that. You already tipped me five hundred dollars, Mr. Winthorpe andall I did was take you to a store to buy some flannels. Now you just rest and let me earn my money.”
Through slitted eyes I watched him expertly lay the firewood, stoke the embers and coax the once dead fire back to life. Once he was happy with it, he put the fire screen in place, then came to check on me again.
“Okay, so the fire is good for a while, just throw another log on when you wake up. I checked the thermostat too and set it to come on if it dips too low.” He took the plaid blanket from the end of the sofa and gently placed it over me. I was immediately thankful for the warmth. I hadn't realized I'd been shivering. “I'm leaving my card with my number on the coffee table next to two bottles of water and some pain reliever I found in the cabinet. I'm afraid you're getting sick, but I hope I'm wrong. If you wake up and you are sick and you need anything, call me and I'll be more than happy to come back and bring you anything you need.”
I had drifted in and out while he'd been talking, but I was pretty sure I mumbled my thanks before he'd left. I thought I might have heard multiple voices, one deeper than Tommy’s, but I was probably hallucinating. As I finally slipped into a fevered sleep I realized I was definitely sick and lord knows what I was going to do out here in the wilderness all alone.
4
RAGNAR
Flying with a wild flock was a once in a millenia experience for most bird shifters. Many flocks wouldn't be openly hostile these days on the ground, but flying with them would never have been an option.
My earliest memory was of me and my dad taking an autumn walk in the woods near the Gulf Coast. The great migration had been in full swing and there were hundreds of species stopping in the wetlands just before they flew across the water to their winter destinations. Dad explained about the migration, but I was fixated on one subject.
“Da, we're birds, why don't we fly south too?” He stroked his dark beard in an effort to hide his silent laughter.
“Nary, yes, we're birds, but we're not exactly the same as the wild birds. We can stay in our homes during the winter and stay warm, we don't have to fly to find warmer weather.”
“But, Da, I want to go with the wild birds. Can't we go with them?” Dad shook his head, then gently picked me up to walk out of the woodline and onto the beach. The sand all around us was so white it looked like snow.
“We're not the same as the wild birds, Nary. We're ravens, and our kind doesn't normally make a huge migration anyway. But even if we did, we wouldn't go with them. The wild birds need their space to be birds and we need our space to be shifters. We can be friendly, but we can't encroach on their way of life. That wouldn't be fair, would it?”
I had been playing with his beard while he'd been talking, already distracted from the topic I'd brought up. “What does encroach mean? Why is the sand on beaches not all the same color?”
The conversation about the birds had ended that day, but years later I remembered my young heart longing to be with wild birds at least once. School had led me to study biology, then animal behavior and conservation. So those years and all that studying has come full circle to my young longing to fly with the wild birds. It had all led me to this moment.
Flapping my wings, I gained the lift I needed over the next mountain peak, then left them outstretched as I caught the current and effortlessly drifted along with the other members of the flock. I was in the back, low bird on the list, but I was included and allowed to be there. I was living my little 5 year old’s wildest dream, but even though my work was nearly done and I could write my research paper, I felt there was something else to learn, more to explore. I could pretend it was the call of research and understanding the unknown, but that would have been a lie. I had lost myself in my work after the accident, and I didn't want to face reality. Work was my purpose now that my mate had died.
As a behaviorist, I'd spent my whole career studying wild birds. I'd noted their moods, personalities and social structures. When I'd focused on ravens, in particular, their mating bonds became my obsession. When they mated, they left the flock and went out on their own to create their own family structures.When I had observed this a few times, I'd decided that's what I wanted, too. I wanted a mate and a home of our own.
I'd gotten everything I wanted, until it was taken away.
I had made the mistake of romanticizing the wild raven’s lives. Their world wasn't picket fences and house warming parties. It was harsh and survival wasn't guaranteed. If they lost their mate, they returned to the flock to find a new one and continue the cycle.
They moved on.
I was having a hard time moving on, and as much as I'd learned from them over the years, I still hadn't come to terms with how they accepted the cruelty of loss and continued on living.
Hearing the lead birds start to call, I looked down and saw a herd of elk moving along an outcrop.Shaking off my memories, I observed the flock’s behavior so I could write it all down later. This particular behavior pattern had rarely been scientifically documented, even though many old wives tales had been passed down through the years.
As I stayed circling with the flock, I looked through my raven's eyes for the movement I knew would be coming over the ridge. A few moments later, the pack slunk into view and my hunch had been right. The wolves, having heard the Ravens calling, caught sight of the elk, then moved into position to attack.
The ravens cawed and croaked in what could have been considered encouragement. In essence it was their hunt as well as the wolves. They're the ones that told the wolves where to look. It was a special relationship between the two species where one found the prey, the other dispatched the prey, then everyone got to feast. It was the perfect mutualistic symbiotic relationship in nature. I'd even observed these ravens playing with wolf cubs and hanging out with the packs on the mountain. My paperwas going to be definitive proof that ravens and wolves not only worked together, but genuinely liked each other for their mutual benefits.
The pack had chosen their victim and made the kill in no time, and the excitement of the flock was a vibration in the air around us. When as a collective they began flying down to the area of most recent carnage, I decided it was time for me to go. They would perch and wait on the trees until the wolves were done, then feast on the remains.
I loved the wild bird life, but I drew the line at carrion. My human heart shuddered at the thought of eating raw elk on a mountain cliff, so I peeled off and left them to their feast. I had wanted to learn about the wild birds and their habits, but at the end of the day, I was still part human. I did not want to rip into a fresh elk carcass. No, I had a steak in the fridge waiting for me to cook it to a nice medium rare. I steered my way back to the cabin, enjoying the last rays of the sun’s warmth as it set to the west.
Thinking back to the cliff scene I'd just left, I revised my dinner plan. Tonight I'd cook my meat medium well. No blood for me tonight.
I landed on the back porch, but immediately noticed there were strangers in my place. I shifted quickly and got dressed, quietly observing the two men inside. The younger man I had seen in town once or twice, but couldn't recall his name. The one laying on the sofa was a stranger, but a feeling tugged at me to get closer. I wanted to see his face.
I walked around the house to the front and sat on the porch railing, waiting for the boy to exit my cabin. When he did, he startled for a second then a big smile spread across his face.
“Mr. Scott, it's great to see you. Are you up here for Holiday again this year?”
Finally recognizing the younger man, I was impressed I remembered his name.
