The Aspiring Archivist
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There was a thunk as it found purchase in the shield. An Aviar squawked in the treetops high above, staring straight down at Evan.
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Murr stayed stock still.
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It went silent as its eyes burned. From his hidden spot, Murr felt a horrible tearing sensation, like a piece of him had been wrenched away. He stifled a sob.
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There was no further sound or movement from the foliage. The fallen bird continued screeching.
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The Aviar attempted to dodge, but the shot caught it in the wing. It promptly fell to the ground, one wing now drained of color and useless. It screeched again, seemingly in rage, as it got onto its feet.
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Suddenly, a bird flew out of the spot where she was aiming, screeching at Aerol as it barreled toward her.
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There was no further sound.
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He wasn't visible through the foliage yet, but he hadn't been quiet on the approach. If Evan and Aerol kept an eye out, they could spot an Aviar watching from the treetops. Murr raised his shield in the direction of the others and froze, aware of their presence thanks to the bond. Part of him knew that despite that, his advantage in this position was slim to non-existent, but his head spun, and it was so much easier to just stay here, still, not attacking or retreating.
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Murr stumbled to a stop before coming out into the open.
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Murr trudged through the jungle alone, his mind a haze of lights and colors. The only thing that told him where to place his feet was the assistance from the Aviar, providing a weak substitute for his own spinning vision.
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The Hunger Games Chat Thread
The Aspiring Archivist replied to Through the Living Elan's topic in Hunger Games
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I'm getting started on Isles of the Emberdark! I'm very excited, since I really liked Sixth of the Dusk. Right now I just have the ebook, but I should be getting the physical book, along with the rest of the box, very soon!
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Murr went in the direction of the noise, trying to come up with a clear thought. Why was he walking this way, anyway? He had many questions, but couldn't seem to find the answers to fit them.
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Murr trudged onto the island, shield hanging heavily from his hand. Images of death and bloodshed flashed in his mind, gifts from the Aviar mixing with memories of war. His sister... he was fighting for his sister. She was dead. What had her name been? He continued the stumble through the forest. The visions and pure instinct were the only things keeping him on his feet and out of the patches of toxic plants and dangerous insects. Three or four birds circled him now. He couldn't quite tell, as his normal eyesight seemed to blur and double. Had he hit his head somewhere?
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A quick flyaround by one of his Aviar told Murr where his makeshift raft had ended up, and he quickly got to it before the water could take it away. As the island sank, he began the slow drift toward the central island, trying to aid himself with the shield as a paddle.
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Hi, everyone! It's been a sec. I've been quite busy until recently, but these days I'm doing pretty good. How have y'all been?
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Murr scoffed quietly. "A shield is a weapon." He carefully lowered himself from the tree and looked out over the water, trying to make out what could still be seen of the central island above the waves.
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Murr looked down at the note, his Aviar fluttering around him on the tree in the middle of the water. "I want... a shield."
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