The vote was reallllly close on this one! You had me sweating that it was going to be a tie. Eventually, though, it settled on climbing the tree.
If you’re just checking in, here’s the quick run down. For your magicks class, you have to form an animated animal out of animas clay. You want to create an owl but since you haven’t seen one up close, you’re having a hard time keeping the creature’s shape in your mind for the clay. Your teacher has given you one night to figure it out and you’ve decided to climb a tree to see the owl’s nest on your farm.
Let’s see how this goes =)
Owl Shaped Option A: Climb the Tree
The afternoon was torturous. You headed home with the lump of animas clay folded into the bottom of a paper bag and then that bag was tucked carefully into an outside pocket of your backpack. You can see the bulge it makes in the canvas even now where it sits by the front door.
Mom hums in the kitchen as she cleans the dishes. Dad’s out, working with the cows. On the table in front of you is a spelling list from school. You’ve written it out several times but you know you’re not retaining the actual list. The words are just letters floating through your subconscious while your active brain is focused on that lump of clay and the owl tree outside.
You finish writing out the list for the fifth time and set the pencil down. This was the last of your homework for the day.
“Can I go play?” you ask.
Mom glances at your list and then nods. “Put the list in your backpack.”
You race to the pack and trade the list for the paper sack with the clay. Tucking the clay into your pocket, you’re out the door and down the steps before you hear the screen door slam closed against the frame.
Mom’s exasperated sigh reaches you. Maybe it’s a mental thing, you know she’s going to sigh about the door, so you hear it no matter where you’re at.
The cottonwood tree isn’t far from the house. You skid to a stop at the base of it and locate the tangle of twigs above that make up the owl’s nest.
You’re just about to start climbing when you see large tail feathers sticking over the edge of the round mass.
The momma owl’s home. You slump to sit at the base of the giant tree.
She’ll attack you for sure if you start to climb up now.
The momma owl doesn’t seem inclined to leave anytime soon, so you pull the lump of clay from its paper sack and start trying to mold it again. Each time you get the rounded shape of the bird’s body formed, the clay sort of melts around your hands. The tail feathers hold their shape a bit longer though. With one good look at the owlets, you’re sure you’ll be able to hold the whole shape in your mind.
Dusk blurs the horizon by the time you hear a whoosh of wings overhead. You glance up just in time to see the momma owl skim away toward the nearby field. There are mice aplenty in the field, so you’re sure she won’t be long. On top of that, your own mom will be calling you to bed soon.
You pocket the animas clay again and scale the tree in the near dark. Long experience in this tree makes the climb easy.
The bark of the branch containing the nest bites into the palms of your hands as you pull yourself up to peek into the bird’s home.
Inside you find two fluffy bits of feathers. The owlets pivot their heads to look at you and one gives a soft, babyish ‘who’? Their adult feathers have not come in yet. Instead, they’re covered in a soft poof of down.
You stare at them, taking in their shape, the round features of their faces and eyes, and the wings they flutter in agitation the longer you stay near them. You try to imprint the way they look on your mind’s eye.
A whoosh is all the warning you have. The momma owl screeches as she sinks her claws into your hands where you grasp the tree.
Instinctually, you try to pull away. This off balances you at the exact moment you let go of your handhold on the branch. You swing wildly, attempting to regain a hold but the momma owl will have none of it.
She beats her massive wings in your face and you lose all sense of the world around you except for the gut twisting feel of falling and the wind and feathers buffeting your body.
A scream escapes just as you hit the ground. It’s cut short as the impact drives the breath from your chest and then your head cracks hard against the dirt. You get a sense of dizziness and then nothing.
The world still feels like it’s spinning. As you open your eyes, the faces of mom and dad slowly come into focus.
“There you are,” Dad says. He gives you a lopsided grin. “Think the tree got the better of you this time.”
Mom huffs. She’s about to launch into a tirade about climbing the owl tree in the first place but dad chuckles and helps you to your feet.
“Go wash up,” he says and gives you a push toward the house. He watches as you make your way inside, probably to make sure you can walk a straight line.
You clean up and make it into bed without any residual effects from your fall. Dad clears you for sleep and soon your sitting in bed in a dark, quiet house.
The animas clay is still in your pocket.
You close your eyes, trying to recall all the little details you gathered about the owlets. It’s easy to remember their large, curious eyes but the shape of their wings seems a little off in your mind.
It’s better than when you tried to animate the clay in class but it’s definitely not a full, clear image. Perhaps your fall muddled your brain a bit.
Aa. Attempt to see them again?
Ab. Try from memory?
In the comments, vote for which option you’d like to explore. We’ll see how it goes Thursday.
Until then, blessings,