Fly With Your Heart

Chapter Two

     There I sat underneath my Mother, head under wing, when it happened.

     It had been seven sunrises since my hatching, and I had grown exponentially. There had been lots of food, probably the reason why. Ispatinaw had continued hunting, and soon she would leave the nest. She had already begun sleeping in another crack lower than the one we lived in right now. Yôtin had started 'rock hopping', which was how he was learning to fly. Atâhk and Waskôw would instruct him as he leapt from rock ledge to rock ledge.

     My feathers were very ugly. They were white and gray, not the beautiful golden brown of my parents and siblings. I couldn't wait for the real ones to come in. I couldn't wait to fly.

     As I was blinking my eyes open, ready to start the day, an earth-shattering roar echoed in my skull. It set my brain buzzing, and every single hollow bone in my body wanted to jump over the ledge and fly.

     But I couldn't, and just as I lifted my head to see what was going on, Waskôw shrieked in anger and jumped off me. I watched in horror as she launched her talons forward to hook into the face of a cougar.

     The creature had been climbing above us, trying to reach down and snatch me. Me, of all the animals that lived in the mountains, the cougar wanted me.

     Of course.

     Waskôw screamed in anger and pulled back, nearly lifting the big cat off the cliff. Another call answered her, and soon Atâhk was there. Together, my parents battled the cougar until it ran – as well as one could when balancing on a precipice – away, howling in rage.

     "Are you okay?" Asked Atâhk. I nodded dumbly, shocked to silence by the very, very, very, rude awakening. He cawed to comfort me, and I leaned into him. "Waskôw, hurry and help me bring Yôtin up here. Kîsik, hide in this crack." I did as Papa said, and waddled to a small crevice in the back wall. I squeezed in, going as far as I dared.

     My parents left, and I was left alone to my thoughts. Is it gone? What if it comes back? Will I get stuck? I don't want to get stuck...

     Just as I thought of that, pebbles cracked against the gray stone above me. I watched, in dazed horror, as a tan paw reached in. It scrabbled around for a moment, then set down on the ledge. My ledge. Another paw came down, then two more. A huge creature crouched down and peered under the ceiling.

     The cougar was back.

     It looked around with huge blue eyes and spotted me. It reached forward with a massive claw, trying to drag me out of the crack I was hiding in. I shrieked in alarm, pressing back farther. "Mama, Papa, where are you?" I cried, squeezing my eyes shut.

     The cougar hissed in annoyance as it realized I was too far back to catch. "Go away!' I screamed at it, pressing back still further. It didn't understand me, but miraculously the cougar snarled and leapt away. I stayed in my crack however, terrified to move.

     Eventually, my parents came back carrying Yôtin together. My brother looked around wildly as he landed. "Where is Kîsik? Where is she?"

     Atâhk hopped forward and peered into my crack. I peeped quietly and he reached his big head in. "Are you alright?" He asked me. I shook my head no.

     "It came back!" I cried.

     Yôtin called for me to come out from where he was. I tentatively walked out and 'ran' over to him. He bent his head and preened my down, I calmed a bit after that.

     Waskôw looked over the mountains. "I can't see where Ispatinaw is. She said she would stay within sight of home! I'll bring her back." She launched herself into the rising wind, then left, scanning the rocks for her daughter.

     I watched her go with sad eyes. Oh, how I wanted to fly. What would it feel like? When could I start rock hopping? I decided to ask my brother. "What is it like to fly?"

     He giggled. "I haven't flown yet, but Mama and Papa are always talking about 'flying with my heart'. I don't know what that means, but when I figure it out, I'll finally fly." I looked at him in awe. That is what I will have to do then, I thought with determination.

     Atâhk nudged me with his beak. He put his wing around me and leaned down, pointing to the sky. "When your flight feathers come in, I will teach you to fly myself. But until then, do not try to fly." I nodded, but I wasn't really listening.

My first big mistake.

. . .

     It was noon when Waskôw and Ispatinaw returned. My sister was carrying a really big, white, furry thing in her talons. She landed proudly, and my Father congratulated her. Meanwhile, I pecked at the new animal. Ispatinaw noticed and cawed angrily. "Stay away from my goat!" She fly-hopped forward and delivered a sharp peck to my head.

     I fell back dazed, and listened to the commotion that followed.

    Atâhk screeched at Ispatinaw and batted her away with his wings. Waskôw started giving her a speech on moving out, but my Father shortened it. "The second we are done eating your prey, you will leave."

     Ispatinaw sounded shocked. "But Papa, I –"

     "Atâhk is right. You will leave, you can hunt for yourself, so there is no reason for you to stay." Waskôw reasoned.

     Yôtin, meanwhile, had moved to me and was murmuring encouraging words to my ear. "It's alright, you're okay." I wanted to believe him, but my head still hurt. Waskôw turned to me, and after I felt more like myself she started to portion the pieces with her mate.

     Dinner was very glum. No one said anything, all for different reasons. The rest of my family was mad at Ispatinaw, while I was trying to puzzle the meaning of 'fly with your heart'. Does my heart have wings? Will I be able to fly the second I understand the saying?

     It was all very confusing, but it only got more confusing when it was time for my sister to leave. I was watching her fly away angrily, just as I realized that I too, would leave my parents someday. "Mama, can I stay with you forever?"

     Waskôw chuckled. "No, you will be glad to leave one day. You'll have your own mate and chicks, and life will be good. I promise you."

     That was almost true. Almost.