My wings are tired. I feel as though I have been flying forever. Many moons have risen and fallen but I cannot allow myself to stop. Not while Master is missing. It was unlike him to be gone for any amount of time and already I miss the feel of the fabric of his robes beneath my talons.
As if instinctual, I feel my talons curl before relaxing. I falter, my wings miss a break in the current. I need to rest or I would die before finding him. Spying a field mouse trying in vain to outrun my wings, I quickly dive and pluck the morsel out of the grass, nearly killing myself as I roll and tumble into a tree. Yes, I need to rest, flying in this condition would do neither of us any good at all.
After fumbling to my foot, my other still clutching the field mouse, I hop a couple of times as I pump my weary wings. I barely catch the current and let it carry me as far as a high branch upon the tree I had fallen into. My left foot clutches the limb for dear life as my right raises the trembling snack to my beak.
“Wait. Please don’t eat me!” The little grey mouse squeaks much to my astonishment. My snacks normally did not talk, Perhaps I was much more tired than I imagined I was.
“You are food. I am hungry. It makes perfect sense for me to eat you.” Is my reply as I once again lift my leg to put the mouse in my beak.
“I’m scrawny. Not much of a meal here. Surely you want something with a bit more meat.” The little mouse says. Truly I am growing even more tired, if that is even possible, while listening to this little mouse try to con me out of eating it.
“Be that as it may, I am hungry and far too tired to hunt for anything better. You will just have to do mouse.” I point out.
“Squeaks!” The mouse squeaks.
I tilt my head. “Excuse me?”
“Squeaks. My name is Squeaks.” The mouse says in what sounds like little more to me than one unintelligible word.
“So?” I ask perplexed as to why this mouse is trying to tell me its life story when all I want is to make it a midnight snack.
“Weren’t you ever taught not to kill something that has a name? I’m Squeaks.” The mouse points out the bane to all predatory creatures. I force my talons to uncurl from around the mouse’s body and sigh.
“It would have been better for me if you had not told me your name you know. Run along now.” I say as I gently push the mouse toward the trunk of the tree.
“I have nowhere to go. I was actually out looking for a place to nest for the night when you found me. What’s your name?” The mouse rambles much to my disdain.
“Does it matter what my name is?” I ask.
The mouse nods. “Yes. I’d like us to be friends.”
I look at the mouse as those a few extra heads had sprouted from its tiny shoulders. “A mouse..Friends with an owl? It is no wonder that you have no home. The other mice must think you are completely out of your mind. My name is Brown Mist.” I do not know why I tell Squeaks my name. I must be a lot more tired than I had originally thought I was, but I had and so now he knew it.
“That’s an interesting name. How did you get it?” Squeaks is the most talkative mouse I have ever met and is already grating on my nerves.
With a sigh I answer. “My Master gave it to me. He is a wizard named Merle, named for some famous wizard back in the days of Avalon.”
“If you have a Master, what are you doing all the way out here? This forest isn’t kind to anyone, I imagine it’ll be harder on someone who’s had a sheltered life.” The mouse points out.
“I will be fine and I will find Merle and then I will never have to leave my roost again.” I state matter of fact before tucking my head in my wing, ending the conversation with Squeaks, who then opts to wedge himself under my wing to sleep.