Flight School: Prey

Voices, unheard.

Slayne had heard the barn owl's screech in the dead of the night.

It pierced the air, reaching the ears of Nocturnes that were miles away—and Slayne showed little hesitation to follow the call for help. Naturally, he did not mean to help Mauri; but perhaps establish the unofficial alliance that he deemed necessary at some point of time.

After all, they were the few who knew the identity of the Joker.

His appearance; his scent—

Everything was in their favor; and this advantage had to be utilized as soon as possible...that is, if Slayne wanted to help the Joker in the first place.

Which he did not.

He certainly did not want to involve himself in something messy at all and yet—

Yet the snowy owl found himself taking off in the direction of Mauri's call, his nightingale's smile surfacing for a brief moment to sooth the burn in his chest; then fading as if it was never there.

Slayne couldn't believe himself.

Attachment—

Concern—

Care—

They were things that made one weak as a fledgling.

But despite so, Slayne couldn't believe himself.

For it had been a mere night; just one—one night.

And he was already beginning to miss his voice terribly.

___________________________

Luka, Victoria's voice was faint at such a distance, someone's coming.

The predator tensed on instinct, instructing his Avian to continue her watch from the river and that he'd be there soon.

He stole a glance at the sparrow, indifferent eyes igniting with a spark of amusement at the sight of him still trying to master the trick of popping a berry into his mouth.

Luka noticed that the trajectory of his toss was too far off—resulting in berries often flying past his head or hitting his forehead with a dull sound.

He didn't say anything.

The eagle snapped his fingers before Io's eyes to gain his attention, but in a way that produced no sound. Raising his gaze from the pouch of berries, the latter returned his stare with curious eyes.

Luka signed; pointing first at the sparrow.

You.

He held up a hand as if to say 'stop'.

Stay.

His index pointed to the ground beneath.

Here.

The Mark nodded once, and—as if his attention span lasted for those mere few seconds—resumed his newfound interest of learning this peculiar way of eating.