Friend of the Dead (ReD)

Poison-Star

Well-Known Member
Inactive
Aug 22, 2014
185
It was that sad time of the year when it got too cold for Avian to wear sundresses. She hated having to wear tight, restricting jeans and tennis shoes, but it wasn't like she had a choice. If she wore her usual attire, she'd be shivering from head to toe. It wasn't like her blue winter coat was any better. All it did was make her feel like she was wrapped in an over-sized cotton ball. Usually during cold days, she'd stay inside to avoid "bundling up", but she wanted to go out today for power practice. Since the incident with Kratos, she wanted to become more serious about her controlling her abilities. Avian figured there was no time like the present, so she started by heading off to the woods.

Lately, she found controlling small birds was easy enough, but big birds were a challenge. She knew there were vultures that occasionally hung around the cemetery in the woods, so she headed out with her backpack. In it was a container of raw meat and a bird trainer's glove. Not soon after she arrived, a turkey vulture swooped down and perched on one of the tombstones. It eyed her bag hungrily, most likely sensing the food inside.

"Not yet," Avian shook her head, "You have to help me practice before you get your reward,"

The vulture made a small growl at the back of its throat, almost like an impatient humming. Avian slipped the huge, leather glove onto her right hand and held it out for the bird. He stepped on, his sharp talons digging deep into the leather, but luckily it was tough enough to spare her the pain.

"Now go," she ordered it, sticking her hand out to a branch.

She tried willing it to fly there, but it just kept staring at her in confusion.

"Come on, Mr. Vulture," she tried to reason with it, "You won't get your meat if you don't!"

The bird of prey just squawked and fluffed its feathers. This would be harder than she thought.
( @ReD )
 

ReD

Sex & Death Everywhere
Inactive
Aug 4, 2013
6,766
Bat Country
Lochlann was in the cemetery at this time of day because no one would expect him to be here. He normally went to the lake, to the library, or even for a hike along the beach or the woods when he needed to clear his head.

Right now, his head was filled with a lot of things. He was carrying his backpack over one shoulder and he had a small pine and holly wreath in his hands. It was far past the Christmas holiday, but it was a rare sort of wreath that could be displayed in this cold winter.

Lochlann looked up when a large bird flew over his head. It was too large to be one of the normal birds lurking in the cemetary and that caught his attention. He walked through the rows of graves and saw Avian trying to lure the large, red-headed bird onto a gloved arm. She had a chunk of meat and was holding it out. Lochlann tried not to laugh.

There was something oddly charming about the cute girl arguing with a bird while holding a chunk of bloody meat.

"Have you tried saying please?" he teased.
 

Poison-Star

Well-Known Member
Inactive
Aug 22, 2014
185
((So sorry for the late reply! It didn't notify me for some reason...))
"Eep!" Avian squeaked and let the container of meat drop to the ground.

The bird also flinched back and ruffled its feathers, startled by the girl's sudden movements. Placing a hand to her heart and taking a deep breath, she regained her composure.

"Don't sneak up on me like that, Loch," she sighed, "It's quiet as the dead out here."

Then she remembered the setting they were in. Casting a glance at all the weathered tombstones, she giggled, "no pun intended."

"And no, I haven't," she grumbled in a defeated tone, "I doubt it would help."

As her eyes grazed their surroundings, she also noticed what her friend was carrying. A backpack; not unusual. But what was with the wreath and little pine? Was he celebrating Christmas a second time?

"What are those?" she asked curiously, pointing a gloved finger at the decoration.

Suddenly, the vulture's brains kicked in, and it registered her point as a command. Taking flight, it soared straight for the Christmas wreath, talons outstretched for retrieval.
 
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