ENDED - WINNER ANNOUNCED

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Okay, I'm extending the end date by one week c: This competition will now end on the 20th. Thanks for your patience!

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Bump!

[cosmic-quark]

I'm almost done with my entry! It's a bit long, but still under 3k so I hope that's okay ^^

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That's fine c: I look forward to reading it!

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One day left to finish off your entries!

[Ranger of the North]

2958 words c':

xxxxxIt’s nearly time... It’s nearly time...
xxxxxThe call echoed and re-echoed, vibrating the very core of his hollow bones and setting every muscle aflame with life.
xxxxxIt’s nearly time... It’s nearly time...
xxxxxHe twitched an eyelid, sealed though it was, and his hatching muscle tightened convulsively. With a sharp jerk, his head shot from under his wing and rocketed against the confining space with all the strength in his small body.
xxxxxOutside, someone clucked soft encouragement.
xxxxxThen, exhausted, he slept. For two days, unaware of the passage of time, he slept. Waiting. Gathering strength, for he knew somehow that the worst struggle was yet to come.

xxxxxIt’s time... It’s time...
xxxxxSomething whispered softly to his heart, and he flexed a talon; shifted a wing; experimented with the weight of his head. His egg-tooth carved gentle furrows in the soft inside of the shell, and outside, someone chirped an eager inquiry.
xxxxx‘Is it time?’
xxxxxTasting the space around him, he piped a soft answer and shifted clumsily within the shell; frail baby-muscles obeyed his will as best they could. Curious, he continued to move, testing the strength of his limbs. Was the world really this large?
xxxxxThe egg-tooth dug a little deeper.

xxxxxIt’s time — it’s time...!
xxxxxThe next day — though the passing of time meant nothing to him yet — his once-secure home was a prison. He could barely move. Had no room to grow.
xxxxxIt’s time — it’s time — !
xxxxxCautiously, he wriggled a toe — then froze as something in the shell gave. What had once been so impenetrable had worn thin, and weakened.
xxxxxThe chick shifted again, and the world wobbled unsteadily. A soft call resounded from outside, and he paused a moment to listen.
xxxxx‘A little more, small one — a little more!’
xxxxxIt’s time, it’s time!
xxxxxHe wriggled again, relishing the feel of extra space — free movement — and an eager, chirping cry welled from his heart in answer to the voice outside.
xxxxx‘It’s time, it’s time, it’s time!’
xxxxxIt’s time.
xxxxxThe chick squirmed once more, and at last the shell — an ear-splitting screech sliced the air like a bloodstained knife. With a violent flurry of wind, all semblance of warmth vanished as if it had never existed; the chick was flung roughly aside and tumbled from his egg’s secure embrace. Stunned, he lay motionless.
xxxxxFor the first time in his life, the chick lay unconfined. An onslaught of information — scent-weight-wind-cold-bare-sun-pain-light-firm-dry-air-space-sound-touch-space-space-space! — struck him like a physical blow, and a terrified cry sprang from the pit of his soul.
xxxxxThere was no reply.
xxxxxPanicked, he chirped wildly, not daring to move; some instinct told him danger was near; he must not move and she must come back.
xxxxxA low whistle rose and fell with the wind and the chick quietened eagerly — but the sound was unfamiliar and empty.
xxxxxGrief settled storm-cloud dark in his heart. He needed warmth — needed touch — needed the heartbeat that had drummed on so unflaggingly steadfast before now, singing him a wordless song of love and hope.
xxxxxNow it seemed only a memory.
xxxxxHe needed, like a river needs rain, the reassuring press of feathers against his down, shutting out the cold and the big and the wide and sealing him off — safe — and alone but for her.
xxxxxHe needed his mother.
xxxxxDesperate, he scraped at the air with his claws — beat his wings, feeble though they were, and flipped sideways. The bitter taste of dry dirt coated his tongue like poison. Gravity bore down with the weight of a giant, and defeated, the chick lay still.
xxxxxAn anguished cry overflowed from his heart, echoed and re-echoed by every fibre of his being — ‘Don't leave me!’
xxxxxBut she took no notice.
xxxxxUtterly dismayed, the chick ceased fighting. Exhausted muscles refusing to cooperate any longer — not daring to call again lest he attract predators — he lay as if dead. Helpless, alone, and so, so afraid.
xxxxxA vengeful, merciless wind hissed through the trees, carrying a threatening chill. With deceptively gentle fingers it probed the falcon’s still-damp down, creeping like an icy-legged spider across his skin. Frozen talons sank deep within his bones.
xxxxxWithin moments his muscles had locked fast.
xxxxxThe torturous seconds ticked by like minutes. The minutes like hours. And the chick's small heart beat dangerously slow.
xxxxxWeariness infused every muscle, but it was the grief — the aching, immeasurable pain of knowing he had lost her, she was gone, gone forever and had abandoned him — conspired with the pitiless cold to strip him of everything.
xxxxxTime took its toll, unstoppable as the rising sun.





xxxxxGrass whispered softly beneath the girl’s feet, murmuring sweet nothings to itself. Ordinarily she would have stopped to listen for an hour or two, soaking in the songs of the wind and the tales in the trees — but not today. Pīhi and Tāwharu’s eggs were due to hatch at any moment, and with that knowledge she couldn’t stand to be still.
xxxxxSunlight crept cautiously over the horizon, stretching out long golden fingers to caress the earth.
xxxxxThe girl broke into an easy jog. She could sprint through the forest unimpeded on even the darkest of nights, but today she somehow didn’t want to.
xxxxxAs she passed, leaves fingered her face wonderingly. Branches whispered their constant query — ‘What are you?’ — and thorns turned aside at a word. The wind sang through her hair in a dark cloud, threatening to obscure her vision, but she brushed it aside impatiently.
xxxxx‘There’s no time — move, please, move aside!’
xxxxxShe broke through the trees to the fence and spun, bounding alongside up the hill with long, easy strides.
xxxxxThe fence was silent as a tomb amidst the calls of the forest, and an uncomfortable chill crawled down her spine. The steel nagged at her mind incessantly — like a prickle. It didn’t feel... right. Sometimes she wondered if it was really alive.
xxxxxShe had climbed the thing once or twice, but the top was furnished with long lengths of wire; huge, ugly, twisted barbs of it grew too close together for her to squeeze between, and the ordinarily simple act of climbing had hurt her fingers and toes more than tree-branch and rock ever had. She’d never particularly felt like braving the spikes. A couple times when she was lonely she had tried digging under, too, but the roots dove too deep. She was half convinced the thing was endless — that it had sprouted from the ground with the hills and grown like some twisted, mangled tree.
xxxxxSkin crawling, she shook her head sharply and forced her thoughts back to the falcons.
xxxxxMaybe Tāwharu would bring her new food to try — although that was unlikely, as she was managing to find food for herself. Truth be told, she preferred eating fruit to small birds; however, when the falcon offered, she’d never yet had the heart — or stomach — to tell him so.
xxxxxThe ground levelled beneath her feet and she picked up speed, wondering if maybe Tāwharu had instead found new places to explore (or tell stories of if they lay outside the fence).
xxxxxHe was by far her favourite storyteller — and his first had been the catalyst to her meeting the wire — but sometimes he left her uneasy. Sometimes he compared her to chick and the fence to an eggshell, and that was comforting. But sometimes the steel was “clipping her wings”, and the way Pīhi scolded him afterward left a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She didn't actually have feathers, but still, it was unnerving.
xxxxxAt last nearing the roots of the Fallen Kauri, Kaia slowed to a walk and calmed her wild mind; it was funny how her thoughts raced faster than her feet when she ran.
xxxxxShe rested a small, dark hand against the cool bark for a moment to pant, taking in the smells and sounds of the forest appreciatively as she waited. But something was wrong.
xxxxxOr maybe not wrong, but something wasn't right. The birds were quiet. The trees hushed. A strange chill radiated from the earth.
xxxxxA cold-fingered shiver scuttled down the girl's spine.
xxxxxHesitantly, she took half a step forward — then stopped, biting her lip.
xxxxxDid she dare? She had visited many, many times, but never without the falcons’ permission — and the first time she’d stumbled across the site Pīhi had almost attacked her; she wasn't keen to incur the falcon’s wrath again.
xxxxxBut this time — this time felt different, somehow. Or maybe she was imagining things.
xxxxxKaia had to know. Sucking in a sharp breath she gave a low, clear whistle; it sprang from her lips like a living thing and danced away with the wind.
xxxxxSilence echoed in its wake, and Kaia swallowed hard.
xxxxx“Tāwharu?” she called in the language of falcons, fighting to remain steady-voiced. “Pīhi? A-are you al — right?”
xxxxxThere was no response.
xxxxxButterflies swarmed wildly in her stomach; she skipped from foot to foot in undisguisable agitation, and a swollen lump refused to be dislodged from her throat.
xxxxx“Pīhi, Pīhi, answer me!” she yelled desperately, and the wind howled back with mockery in its tone.
xxxxxShe dared not wait longer. Pīhi and Tāwharu might distrust her forever if she came uninvited, but she wouldn’t care — she wouldn’t! She mustn’t. What if they needed help, and she waited?
xxxxxCautiously, she began to move through the bushes, pushing the suddenly-unwilling bushes aside and forcing a path through to the small hollow beneath the Fallen Kauri. Branches snatched aggressively at her face, carving their marks of disapproval into her skin, but she staunchly ignored them.
xxxxxInexpressible relief flooded the girl’s small body as she caught sight of the log, still undisturbed, and her muscles grew weak with happiness and shock — for there, huddled in the dust, lay a tiny, down-covered chick; tinier, if possible, than the palm of her hand.
xxxxxA fierce grin spread across her face, then vanished quick as the frosts in spring. The baby was spread out at a stiff, unnatural angle — was it even a bird?
xxxxxAnd where was Tāwharu — where was Pīhi? The falcons were nowhere in sight; they needed to be here.
xxxxxThe world was spinning out of control — more change — please no, she couldn’t — Kaia’s head whirled like a spinning-top, and she sank dazedly to the ground.
xxxxxTāwharu — Pīhi — where had they gone — the eggs — the chick — Kaia — needed parents now more than ever — why?
xxxxxTears stung the little girl’s eyes, and she buried her face in her hands.
xxxxxWas it her fault? Because she came? Had it been a test? Was she supposed to keep away? Her not-quite father did things like that occasionally, and she’d been surprised when the birds hadn’t — had they been getting her guard down first? Had she blown it? Would there be ‘consequences’?
xxxxxA deep, aching chasm opened wide in her heart, threatening to tear it apart from the inside out. Oh, she was so stupid. Her eyes burned like fire, and she squeezed them tightly shut — gouged her fists into them. She could not cry.
xxxxxShe had failed the test for herself, but the chick — the chick looked bad. It needed its mother. Pīhi must know that Kaia knew she’d failed by now; why wouldn’t she come back?
xxxxxSuddenly, a mad idea came to her — what if she got closer? Pīhi would see, and decide enough was enough. She’d come screeching down from the sky and realise how bad things were. The girl’s eyes were too blurred to see if Pīhi really were anywhere above, but she had to try. The falcons would be livid — might drive her away for real — but for the chick’s sake, she had to risk it.
xxxxxSquatting, she warily shuffled through the dust toward the deserted nest; daisies and clover hissed their annoyance beneath her toes.
xxxxxThe girl wet her lips nervously, then, “Pīhi?” she whistled. “Tāwharu? Where are you?” Her lips trembled involuntarily as the wind came back empty.
xxxxxAlone. Again.
xxxxxThe little girl buried her face in her hands for the briefest of moments, then raised her head, eyes burning. There was no time for grief — not now. Maybe if she was good she would let herself cry later. Now she needed to be strong.
xxxxxDrying her eyes every so often, she watched the chick for a long, long moment. It was eerily still; not even a hint of movement stirred the small chest.
xxxxxSetting her lips stubbornly against the trembling, and extending a cautious hand, she gingerly gathered the small, sad body into her lap. It was horrifyingly limp; bile rose in her throat.
xxxxxThe faintest shadow of warmth hovered in the sparse white down, and Kaia waggled her fingers thoughtfully. It — a shock of pure dismay rippled through her body — it hadn't been dead long. Her heart clenched as she sucked in a sharp breath. If she had just been faster —
xxxxxSwallowing, she laid the chick in her lap and began to rub it softly. Up and down, up and down from stomach to throat, went her finger.
xxxxxA snatching, grasping wind shoved its way through the trees, and Kaia instinctively turned her back to protect the still body. The trees howled their dismay to the remorseless sky, flinging branches up to hide their faces.
xxxxxFrustration burned in her heart like a hot flame. If she had run quicker, called louder, maybe someone would have heard.
xxxxxPīhi might have listened.
xxxxxDid they hate her? Were they angry with her? She’d thought they were friends — was that wrong? What had she done, why would they abandon their chick?
xxxxxWhy had they left her?
xxxxxThe pain in her throat grew unbearable. Tears fell in sudden hot rivers down her cheeks — but no, she wasn’t crying. They slid in blind, hot waves from her eyes, but she wasn’t crying — she wouldn’t, she wouldn’t let herself cry — not yet; not here.
xxxxx‘You’re ten years old now. Control yourself.’ Her not-quite-father’s voice rang loud in her memory, and with a spartan effort she swallowed down the sobs that begged for release.
xxxxxThe chick heaved spasmodically. Gasping, it jerked its beak open — and snapped shut just as suddenly. Kaia’s breath caught like a moth in her throat.
xxxxxHad-had she done it? Was — it alive?
xxxxxA sharp, half-sobbing breath whooshed from her lungs as she continued massaging the bird’s frail body — coaxing life back — pleading with him to breathe — cultivating his will to fight — and he responded. Tiny talons curled, twitching slightly, and he chirped weakly.
xxxxxKaia's mind raced like a cyclone-wind as she whistled desperately, daring him to live. She couldn’t believe it. What now? What next? What about the eggs? How was she going to feed the chick? Should she take him away now, or stay? What if Pīhi and Tāwharu were only hunting, and they returned to find their chick gone? What if they thought she’d stolen it? They would hate her.
xxxxxThey weren’t coming back. Somehow, she knew.
xxxxxKaia curled herself around the fragile body, trying with all her might not to cry — he needed to stay dry, he needed to stay dry! But the grief that darkened her heart refused to be dissuaded; sobs bubbled up quick and fast in her throat. Her closest friends, the comforters of her soul when everything was too dark and she was too alone — they were gone. Gone forever. Her heart ached for the chick, so much like her that she sobbed all the harder because of it.
xxxxxKaia cried to the wind as only a child can, and it flew shrieking down the valley like a wild thing; the hollow wail that echoed back sent a chill of terror spiking through her bones. The tears ceased as suddenly as they’d begun.
xxxxxShe felt cold as a glacier inside; almost as frozen as the first day she’d been left. She thought she’d thawed since then — but maybe that was wrong.
xxxxxActing without feeling, the little girl rose to her feet and clutched the smaller body tight to her heart. She would take him. No one cared enough to hate her.
xxxxxNumb, she let the bushes swallow her, and couldn't remember later how she’d arrived back at the makeshift shelter.
xxxxxUtterly empty, she sat staring at the chick. Her eyes were burning holes inside her skull. She wished she could cry.
xxxxxFinally, after an indeterminate amount of time, Kaia shook herself. She had to get up; the falcon was starving, she was hungry, and Pīhi and Tāwharu would have wanted their offspring named. Names held power; they earned personality and gave identity, and this baby especially needed a head-start.
xxxxxKaia remembered Pīhi mentioning, once upon a time, that most creatures had more than one name: one for everyday use, and one for keeping close to the heart. That's how she was both Kaia and Trial 02.
xxxxxTerror hatched ugly butterflies in her gut. Names stuck, it had to fit. She had to get it right first try. Kaia settled back on her heels, eyes dull, watching as he breathed erratically. His ancestors’ names didn’t fit somehow.
xxxxxThoughtfully, she counted a list off her fingers. He was small — an only survivor — past was cloudy and ominous — his very survival was shrouded with uncertainty —
xxxxx‘Veil!’
xxxxxShe sucked in a sharp breath.
xxxxx‘Veil.’
xxxxxIt felt right.
xxxxxThen suddenly she knew his full name.

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I'm going to close this at midnight tonight (NZST), so please get your entries done by then as I won't be adding any more extensions!

[sparrow;]

I've been busy the last couple of days but I'm going to be able to start reading through the entries now, the winner will be announced on the 28th, NZST.

[Ranger of the North]

Yeet! Good luck, guys!!

[PICKLEBOB]

Good luck to you too!