Two Birds = Two Stones

Rakia's senses were pulled down from the spectacle above as a familiar scent cut through the crisp winter air. It was Melanth, her fellow hunter. The size and confidence of her strides were easily discerned even without turning around. But that did not deter her focus from her chosen prey. She lifted a paw, signaling Melanth to halt her approach lest she startled the flock. But the ink-black bird among some of the others that had caught her eye had already begun to separate from its kin, dallying in an aimless dance close to the ground. Its wings, iridescent in the sunlight, curled and unfurled as if teasing the frozen elements around it, adding an ethereal ambiance to the barren valley. Rakia's well-sprung muscles coiled with anticipation, her breath hitching at the spectacle before her.

Her gaze locked onto the bird, oblivious to Melanth's silent participation- if she chose to go after her own bird or not. The world seemed to pause around her; the crisp winter air felt stiller, each snowflake hung suspended in air - time itself seemed to be holding its breath as Rakia prepared to strike. With a stealthy grace, she began to creep forward. Each paw was placed with precision on the frost-dusted marble, careful to avoid the crunch of loose pebbles underfoot. Her paws, adapted to the hard ground of her homeland, found easy purchase on the smooth stone as she silently closed the distance between herself and her target.

The bird's plumage shimmered in the midday sun, each iridescent feather catching the light and reflecting it back in endless hues of blues and purples. To Rakia, it was a piece of the sky made flesh and bone. Her gaze remained fixed on it, her heart matching the rhythm of its flapping wings. The sight of it was worth every painstakingly slow step she took on the marble stones. The bird seemed oblivious to her presence, its focus solely on the small silver fish that darted in the shallows of a nearby icy stream.

905 / 1500 words
"Rakia Perreau"