by Alex Rey
Metea began to scratch the back of her neck with her left talon—a sign Pesstian recognized as her attempting at thought. After pondering this moment to herself, she took a deep look up at the moon and responded, “Well—the humans usually put just about anything into those things.”
Moving his gaze toward the ground, Metea’s son responded, “Anything? Would they put grass in there?”
Metea gave a small shrug and took a look down at Pesstian when she mumbled, “Maybe. Humans seem to have some kind of use for almost everything in the world.”
A moment of hesitation sat still in the air—only to be interrupted when Pesstian started laughing at the idea of using grass to his advantage. “Well—maybe if I ate everything like the humans do,” he chuckled, “Maybe I would eat grass!”
“I know,” Metea giggled in response. “It doesn’t really—”
A loud thump interrupted Metea at that moment, causing a small shake to rumble beneath the owls’ feet. Although it was only a small shake, it withheld enough power to nearly cause Pesstian to fall off the humans’ roof. At the same time, a horrified gasp escaped from Metea’s beak.
Fortunately for Pesstian, he regained the strength to pick himself back on his feet before his head could have met ground. A sense of worry spreading into his head, he cautiously backpedaled his way over to his mother.
Only a heartbeat had passed when he noticed as a foul odor began to spread into the air. It was then when Pesstian covered the top of his beak and grimaced.
Just before Metea could have asked what was wrong, she found herself making the exact same response to the odor as Pesstian had just done. “What happened?” she choked, struggling to keep her stinging eye opened.
Struggling to keep his own two eyes open, Pesstian locked his gaze onto the lower ground when he explained between coughs, “I—I don’t know what it could be!”
Little did the owlet know, the answer to Metea’s question lay directly in his path of sight. Although it had taken him a while to take realization of this fact, Pesstian noticed how a large group of strange, foreign creatures had been spilled onto a wooden ground.
Most of these creatures appeared a gray-blue color—almost blue enough to blend in with the ocean. Each of them was covered in chains and chains of scales, the likes of which glistened within the sun’s reach. Attached to their sides were what appeared to be some of the tiniest wings Pesstian had ever seen.
Taking sight of this mess, he removed his wings from his beak and screamed in question, “What’s that thing?”
Opening her stinging eye, Metea took a look down at the ground. Confused for what her son was talking about, Metea asked, “What is what? Are—” And then she saw it. “Oh.”
Once Metea had discovered exactly what had just happened, both she and Pesstian locked their eyes forward. It was forward—and only forward—where the ocean creatures lay.
“I’ve never seen that kind of animal before!” Pesstian exclaimed, awe and confusion curling around his mind.
“I think I might have seen them at least once,” Metea muttered while scratching the back of her neck once again.
Turning his gaze over toward his mother, her son asked, “What’re they called?”
“I don’t think they really even have a name! Nobody’s ever seemed to call them by some kind of unique name. We always called them ocean creatures.”
“Ocean creatures? So they come from the ocean?”
“Yes,” Metea replied, admiring Pesstian’s curiosity.
Drawing his mind back to the rank stench the ocean creatures had spilled into the air, Pesstian placed his hands over the top of his beak once again. Feeling as if he would vomit at any moment, he gasped for breath while asking, “Why do they smell so bad?”
A moment of silence filled the air as Metea walked up to her son, nuzzling the back of his head. Once Pesstian’s head stood at the midpoint between her wingtip and shoulder, Metea coldly responded, “They’re dead—all of them.”
A shock of fear and surprise swelling into his head, Pesstian flinched a look toward his mother just before asking, “Dead animals? In that container?”
With eyes closed, Metea made her response through a curt nod.
“What would they want with dead creatures? The fact that they have them in those wooden things is just stupid!”
“Humans rather prefer to eat dead food—as opposed to living creatures.”
“The humans are going to eat that?” he wondered, backing away slightly from his mother.
Resisting the urge to flinch at these words, Metea took a look at her son, took a deep breath and replied, “A lot of animals already do eat those. The weird thing about the humans’ way of eating it is that the fish are already dead. It doesn’t really make any sense to me; fish rot away once they’re dead.”
--
“How long have these things been dead?” Pesstian whispered to himself. Shaking his head, he assured himself, Doesn’t matter. But what I don’t get is the fact that these aren’t the same ocean creatures that I remember from my childhood.
Pesstian recognized the sight, but not the smell these creatures emanated. They were not scaly, nor blue nor winged.
Each and every one of the ocean creatures sat deceased in a net with a volume maybe five times that of Pesstian’s. Each of them seemed rocky in appearance; what looked like jaws seemed to crawl together and form into an enormous maw.
Yet another vision of the past began to fill Pesstian’s mind when he described the creatures’ description to himself. Where’ve I heard of this kind of animal before? A moment of complete silence had come into place before he blurted though a whisper, “Oh—now I remember!”
It was at the moment of uttering these four words when he rushed over toward the net of deceased creatures. Seeing as their rocky build clouded his eyes, Pesstian silently continued, These kinds of creatures don’t move around in the water like all the others. There’s no way it could; it doesn’t have any wings.
Scratching his head, the confused owl asked himself while slowly walking toward the net, But there was something else about them. What was it? Something about a treasure—
Not noticing as he came closer and closer to the net, Pesstian felt as a little talon crept its way up his neck. In response to the feel of the animals’ skin, Pesstian let out a small shudder. Their lips are so bumpy!
“Wait a moment!” he exclaimed, noticing as a spark of realization ignited in his head. In an attempt to grab hold of one of these creatures, Pesstian reached his talon into one of the net’s openings.
Feeling as one of the creatures slipped within his reach, Pesstian caught hold of what felt like a jagged rock. It was then when the feel of rough skin permeated against his talon.
Now taking complete hold of the animal, Pesstian pulled and pulled—all with the hope to yank both his talon and the ocean creature out of the net.
Without any warning, a shock of fear spread into Pesstian’s mind when he realized his talon was caught in the net. Is it stuck? a panicked voice echoed in his head.
It was at that moment when Pesstian tightened his grip on the jagged, slippery skin, pulling with every will in his body. He felt as his heartbeat increased and his blood began to boil with frustration.
Wait a minute. Only a few heartbeats had come to pass when Pesstian took notice of his true problem. This creature was far too large to squeeze through the net’s grasp.
A growl of irritation passing through his beak, Pesstian released his grip on the ocean creature. Shortly thereafter did the annoyed owl realize, I hoped it wouldn’t come to this—but I have no other choice.
Listening as these words echoed about in his head, Pesstian took three steps backward just before raising his talon. Feeling as his claws crawled up beside his beak, he strained the muscles in his leg, readying himself to sweep his right talon through the net’s fabric.
His intentions clear, his mind focused, Pesstian clawed through this net with the intensity of ligh
tning. At the same time did he nervously clench his eyes closed, begging of the net all the while, Please don’t release all of the creatures at once!
All time seemed to come to a near-halt at that moment. Fear seemed to swell around the nervous owl’s head; it was the fear of being caught. What if the humans caught me doing this? he wondered. And they found out I spilled all their—their—whatever these are.
The moment of fear had come to an end when Pesstian opened his eyes. A wave of relief swept over his head at that moment, realizing nothing had spilled. Everything but the one little part of the net he had earlier cut was perfectly intact.
Upon taking notice of the oversized hole he had just created, Pesstian stretched his leg into the cluster of ocean creatures with ease. Pushing his leg almost all the way in, he grabbed hold of a rock-like body and gently pulled it out of the net.
The treasure is supposed in the mouths of these types of creatures, Pesstian reminded himself. A treasure that is very rare to find among them. He took a look up at the large net of the deceased animals. But with this many of them, I’m bound to find it!
After a long moment of staring at the enormous net, the success-stricken owl switched his gaze onto the oceanic creature in his talon. How exactly am I supposed to open this? he silently asked himself while grabbing the top part of the body. I think I’m supposed to open—
In the midst of his thoughts, Pesstian noticed as the mouth of the ocean creature flew right open. A small shock of surprise and fear seeped into Pesstian’s skin when his eyes caught sight of such a phenomenon. “Maybe a treasure is in this one!” he murmured, taking a glance into the mouth.
To his confusion and slight dismay, the only thing catching his attention was a bright yellow meat in the bottom part of this animal’s mouth. Although the meat was mouthwatering in appearance, it gave off a horrible stench—which gave Pesstian the urge to throw this creature away.
Still looking into this mouth, he suggested, Maybe the meat is the treasure. If that’s the case, then we should hunt for more of these things. A look of nervousness crossed Pesstian’s face when he drew a gradually-opening beak toward the meat. He urged himself to ignore the scent of the meat as it stung his nostrils.
Feeling as his tongue came in contact with the meat, the curious owl dipped his beak into the creature’s internal organs. The first thing he had come to realize was how the meat held a very wet and cold feel to it. Only a heartbeat had come to pass when the taste of the meat tickled his tongue.
No more than a single speck of the dead animal came into Pesstian’s beak—and he almost immediately spat it back out. “This tastes horrible!” he exclaimed, swiping away a clump of the meat from his presence.
Attempting to remove the awful taste from his tongue, Pesstian muttered under his own breath, “Obviously, that isn’t the treasure.”
With this thought in mind, Pesstian dropped the half-eaten ocean creature, stuck his leg into the enormous net, and pulled out another one. Just as he had done to the previous ocean creature, he began to shake the body from its top, hoping to open its mouth.
Hoping for patience and perseverance to come to his aid, Pesstian shook and shook the animal’s rock-hard build. To his disappointment, Pesstian soon found himself growing more and more impatient.
For far too long did Pesstian search through the net. One animal after another after another—and yet he still found no treasure. A pile of the beasts surrounded Pesstian’s foot as the other one reached in for yet another one of the creatures.
Day could have popped into sight at any moment now. Pesstian felt like surrendering to this futile task. I can’t do it, he realized, giving in. There’s just no way.
All that changed when a strange, white sphere flashed into his eyes. It was on the creature’s tongue where it sat, glaring at Pesstian, mesmerized. A sense of reassurance and joy pumped through the owl’s veins at that moment.
Drawing himself closer to the treasure, he widened his eyes and began to stare into the beauty of the ocean creature’s white fortune.
This is just as beautiful as the things that some of the humans wear, Pesstian silently gasped. How is it possible that something so beautiful could have been created by such a little animal? Taking a look at the deceased creature itself, Pesstian let out a small chuckle when he jokingly told himself, I guess he won’t mind.
With these words spiraling into the core of his mind, he carefully pulled out the white sphere from within the ocean creature’s mouth. Only a heartbeat later had he thrown the body back into the collection of corpses on the floor.
I can’t just keep this to myself! a selfless voice cried inside his head. Holding the white ball in the grasp of two talons, an idea abruptly popped up, I have to show Leyai!
These few words ignited a bolt of energy to spike its way beneath Pesstian’s skin, thus causing him to lift his wings—along with the rest of his body—into the air. Wings beating against the wind, he curled up his talon into a fist—and inside remain his treasure.
Not caring whether or not a single set of eyes could take sight of his body, Pesstian flapped his way back onto the ledge of the humans’ vessel. During such a time did he feel as the wind blew through his ears, causing him to feel a sense of success.
Within the span of a heartbeat, Pesstian listened as a childhood song rang into his head.
The song echoing within his head, Pesstian noticed as one of the vessel’s ledges came within his sight. Feeling as panic enveloped his thoughts, the disturbed owls placed his talons out in front of his face. Upon doing so, he nearly knocked a sleeping owl off the ledge.
With one talon open and the other holding on to his treasure, Pesstian felt as his nails dug into the human’s wooden finish. He hated when his talons seeped into wood; it made him feel filthy. Regardless of such, he jumped off the ledge successfully, still keeping the treasure in-hand.
Once a good distance away from the ledge, the nervous, confused owl asked himself, Where’s Leyai gone? After taking a look toward the room where both he and the other owls slept, a shrug formed in his shoulders when he suggested, She’s probably in there.
After taking a few steps forward, Pesstian stretched his free talon into the room—before a female voice cried from behind, “Pesstian—there you are!”
In response to the high-pitched cry, turned his gaze toward where he believed the call had drawn from, his blood frozen. “Leyai!” he cheerfully called out, raising his wings into the air.
Watching as Leyai rushed over toward him, a small fear crawled into his mind. Am I going to get ran over? However, this fear quickly faded away when his friend put a stop to her running, her beak barely any distance away from Pesstian’s face.
Now standing directly in front of Pesstian, Leyai placed a smile on her face. “How’s it going?” she asked, a hint of sarcasm squeezing its way up her throat.
“Oh, pretty good,” Pesstian joked through a thick, foreign accent. “I’ve just been off’ve me fun time for maybe two or some days.” Then his accent broke. “Okay, I’ll admit it—I’m lonely.”
A small chuckle escaped from Leyai’s beak as she momentarily closed her eyes. After allowing a small pause of silence to slip into place, she continued, “So—about what you were doing earlier—”
It was upon taking hearing of these words when Pesstian found himself with barely enough strength to keep himself from releasing a small chuckle. Fortunately for him, Leyai’s hadn’t caught the sound of his laughter.
“I was a bit worried that you were going to mention it,” he muttered while taking a look at his talons, his eye drawn to his closed fist. Taking a look up at Leyai, he continued, “I was—just looking around.”
“Looking for what?” Leyai softly asked.
“Just—just looking.”
Convinced Pesstian wasn’t telling the whole truth, Leyai allowed a small moment of silence to come into their conversation. She wanted the truth—and she would either wait for it or squeeze it out of Pesstian.
Once the awkward silence had come to pass, she nervously asked, “Did you find what you were looking for?”
The sound of Leyai’s voice causing his stomach to churn uneasily, Pesstian let out a sigh while giving a blink of slight impatience. Upon switching a somewhat angry gaze onto Leyai’s stare, he noticed a speck of fear within the core of Leyai’s eyes. However, this speck gave an abrupt disappearance when he responded, “Even better.”
“Is it in your talon?” Leyai asked while taking a look down.
“Yeah—that’s it.” These words causing Pesstian’s ears to rattle, he slowly opened his talon as Leyai awaited the treasure within.
Expanded eyes and a huge, bright smile of surprise resulted from the expulsion of this treasure.
Seeing as the shine of the white sphere reflected unto Leyai’s eyes, she brought herself closer to its core and asked, “What is it?” It was after asking this question when she felt tempted to take a closer look at the white ball.
Leyai began to poke around every corner of Pesstian’s body. It hadn’t been long when she accidentally poked the top of Pesstian’s back—right where his non-healing wound lay—thus causing a shock of pain to spread beneath his skin.
“Stop that!” he snapped, feeling as Leyai’s beak pinched his skin. Nearly poking Leyai on her left eye, he began to scratch his recently-bitten. Shortly after furiously scratching his back, he flicked a slightly infuriated glance toward Leyai.
In response to seeing this furious look in Pesstian’s eyes, Leyai let out a nervous chuckle while scratching the back of her neck. “Oops—sorry!”
A small grunt escaping from the corners of his beak, Pesstian ignored the apology and continued, “Anyway—I found this in the mouth of some strange creature that the humans had aboard on their device. The creature that I found this from was the weirdest thing that you could ever imagine.”
Eerie silence came into the conversation as Pesstian thought of a possible way to describe the ocean creatures that he had earlier found. “They were—in the shape of one of the humans’ mouths. They even taste as weird as they look.”
