for gold and glory

“Selfish mammal!” Aster shrieked. She dipped one wing to circle above Medusa in a tight circle. The wolf pawed her—catching on her left wing’s feathers without striking real flesh–but Aster was able to stay airborne. “My nest, my gold, my feathers, is there anything you don’t want?”

Thankfully, the wolf lost her grip on her own. Aster cackled with laughter. She wasn’t usually malicious, but she thought the wolf deserved it after rudely waking her up and trying to steal the very feathers off her back. Predators preyed on sleeping birds—she could understand the need to eat—but she never would’ve expected such a ploy from an owl, not a wolf.

“Learn your lesson yet, or are you going to climb up for more?” Aster chittered two notes that sounded like a mocking tut-tut a mammal might’ve made. Her voice sounded less afraid, more mocking, with an unhealthy streak of arrogance wedged in. She put on a brave face as if she’d been the one to knock the wolf out of the tree herself—even though Aster knew perfectly well the wolf fell of her own clumsiness—for the intimidation.

“Get away from my tree! Shoo! Run back home with your tail tucked between your legs like the ground-dweller you are. May you cut your paws on stones on the way back! And trip over a root! Then smash your wet nose on a rotting coyote corpse! That’ll show you, yeah, go run off and do that, you mammal!”

While she hurled her insults, Aster dipped her left wing to circle tightly above Medusa. She wasn’t in range for a paw swipe again, but if Medusa jumped and was fast enough, the wolf might manage to land a paw on the blue jay.

Aster abruptly pulled her wings in close and feigned a dive bomb to Medusa’s head. The closest she came to Medusa was about four centimeters away from the wolf’s left ear. She pulled her beak up quickly, swooping up to return to circling above Medusa’s head, where the blue jay could continue hurling insults and emotional trauma.