Restless

It was late when I came back the Eyrie. The thermals were dying by the time I left the last one.

I landed at the edge and looked in. Mother was crouched in the middle of the Eyrie, and she looked at me with one eye. She didn’t say anything, but I didn’t like the look.

I thought of crawling under her wing, where I had always slept before, but her look dissuaded me. And so I cautiously slipped into the Eyrie, crouched down by myself, put my head under my wing, and tried to sleep.

It was a restless sleep. For the first couple of hours, every few minutes, the weight of mother’s eyes caused me to stir, pulled my head out, and look at her. She never said anything, nor did I either, and I would eventually put my head back and under my wing.

As soon as it was light I hopped to the edge and took off . There were no real thermals yet, so I merely so her cross to another perch, and stared over the Eyrie. Did mother not love me anymore? Why was she so mad?

I was just thinking about going to join the poetry club, when I saw father in the distance and settled myself back down.

He caught one thermal and then another, coming closer and closer. Finally he soared over to the Eyrie, and perched on the edge. Seconds later he disappeared inside and mother came out.

I launched myself into a thermal at practically the same time and rose higher and higher, watching Mother. I knew that while father might hunt for her, she needed to drink for herself that’s having once descended to the level of the stream it would be a while before she could get back up to the level of the Eyrie.

Instead she rose for a while and suddenly plunged down to hunt. I didn’t see what she got, instead I dove down toward the Eyrie.

“Whaawhoa,” father said, as I landed, ” Whaawhoa it is not good for you to be here. You will make mother very upset.”

“What have I done father?”

“It’s not what you have done, it’s what Mother has done,” he said and raised one wing.

“An egg, father!” I said, “that’s wonderful.”

“Yes, it is. But not so much for you. You need to leave the nest now. I will talk to you later.”

I launched off, feeling wonderful. It wasn’t anything I had done! Mother had had an egg. So that was why she snapped at me. It wasn’t anything I had done. My Mother had laid an egg!

I had a thermal him around. Mother was below me and rising. I had left the nest in good time; hopefully she would wouldn’t be upset that I had come back.

I turned my gaze to the hunt. I was hungry. I scanned the ground for miles around. I passed over half a dozen smaller animals; rabbits, rock warrens, badgers... I was looking for something big.

And then, in the distance, I saw a wolf. My father had taught me that we Eagles hated other predators, particularly wolves. They competed with us for prey.

I had never hunted a wolf before. Father had told me that they were very difficult. I eased over carefully from thermal to thermal keeping him, no her, in my sites. With a corner of my eye I saw father rising to meet me, but I ignored him, keeping my eyes carefully on my prey.

I was very lucky. She was hunting herself, and not paying enough attention to the sky. She was chasing a mountain goat, a pregnant mountain goat, one which she had obviously wounded earlier, Wounded or not, the goat was leading her on quite a chase.

I got into the nearest thermal and watched for my moment. Suddenly the goat turned off the path and launched herself down a scree. I dove out of the thermal just as the wolf, after hesitating for a moment, started down after her.

I was horrible at landings, but this time I would not have to land. I was diving down almost parallel to her course, off her left shoulder. She saw me at the last minute, but had no way to turn on the scree, or even change her role of descent. I hit her with both claws dead on, my left leg behind her left shoulder, and my right into her abdomen in front of her left rear leg. I had to warp my wings at the absolute last second letting that and the force of the blow carry me, carry us into the air.

I dropped her almost immediately. The force of my blow, and my claws, and all would kill her; and I needed to stabilize my flight or I would killed myself.

And it was a near thing. Dropping the wolf caused my flight to wobble and the winds, skipping around the corner, were erratic; while my head and body were still reeling from the shock of hitting the wolf. I plunged forty yards or so just off the cliff wall before I was finally able to level out a way and then it was a bit of flap before I was in a position to look for what I hoped was my kill. She had fallen well above me and seemed to be still alive but just barely. She had landed on a ledge and was pulling herself along on her right front paw. I watched her as I came up and then, a few minutes later I landed beside her and she stopped, growling at me. Suddenly I heard a whoosh, and my father landed beside me. “Well! Well done, my son! To kill a wolf! Your plan and your timing were impeccable. And you hit her just perfectly!

“I didn’t quite kill her,” I said, but he retorted,

“Certainly you did. She has three broken legs and is pouring out blood. And her intestines are all trailing on the ground.

We watched her for a couple of minutes, the he said, “She can’t turn her head. Let’s go around to the other side.”

I hopped around to the far side, toward the front, and Father went toward the rear. Sure enough the wolf couldn’t turn her head toward me enough to snap at me. I tore at her side, working toward the liver. I had the skin open and was taking off the muscles over the liver, when I decided I didn’t like the look in her eye, and I plucked it out with a quick snatch.

“You like the eyes, eh?” Father said, working hard on her thigh.

“She was staring at me,” I said, and went back after the liver. I hadn’t eaten but half of it before the flow of blood suddenly slowed to a trickle. I looked up, and saw that her head had drooped down.

“Well, that’s that. Your first wolf. I can’t really believe it. I was much older before I killed a wolf. My son, and his first wolf.”

We ate a while, and then he looked at me. “This is a hard time in a young Eagle’s life, the time when you have to leave the nest. But it can be a good time, too. And in a dozen years or so you will take your own mate, and build our own nest of your own.”

That seemed forever away, and not something I had any desire for at all. I was still excited about my Mother and her egg.

“How long before the egg hatches, Father?” I asked.

“Oh, not long, just a year.”

“Wow, so in a year you will have a new Eaglet!”

“Well, we hope so,” he said. “There are a lot of predators that attack our eggs. The worst is the egg snake. It creeps into the nest and burrows into the egg from below. But the time you know it is there, the egg is completely empty.

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Von