Bird Songs (open)

[Stare]

~Luciana Trevers

The sunlight streams down, lying like shattered glass on the ground below the one old tree in our yard. The fresh sunlight that shines through the leaves makes the tree look like it was lit with green fire.
The Saturday morning is very clear, the light blue sky tinted with grey mists as the water that was in the ground rises up with the heat. I take a deep breath of the humid air and step outside, staring at the ground and creating a protective curtain of red hair to hide my face from passerbyers.
I go over to the tree and reach into a small, hidden hole between the roots, my hands tracing along the inside of the farmiliar cold earth. Finally, the find the leather strap and pole, and I pull them both out. I attatch the leather strap to my left arm, pulling the strings tight.
Then I grab the pole. For a person who's never trained a bird before, this instrument would confuse. It's a short pole with a long string hanging of one end. The string is thick, and at the end is a small bit of deer hide. I would use rabbit fur, but deer hide lasts way longer, and since it's small, it will work for my purposes.
As I begin to stand up, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I spin around, eyes wide with fear.
In front of me stands a man with a false grin and a bird on his arm. Obviously he knows nothing about birds, or he'd be wearing a leather strap like I am.
"Hello," he says in a friendly voice. This eases my fear a bit, but I adress him with caution. "I hear you are a falconer, and my bird here just won't listen. I'm about to get my pay check, so if you-"
I cut him off in a quiet voice. "Don't work for free. Come back when you have money, please."
Then I race towards the back of the house. There are several falcons waiting in cages. I frown. I believe I just trained Starfield yesterday, so I walk over to the remaining cage, and pick out Athena. Athena is by far my favorite bird that I've ever trained, and her owner takes her back about once every two weeks for a four day session with me to keep her skills fresh.
I let her onto my strap and put on her helmet. The helmet blocks her vision so she won't get too excited. I also tie her talons to the strap, and set out for the woods.
Once there, I begin to say her name. "Athena. Athena."
This get's her excited, as she knows that she's about to hunt. I grin and take off the helmet. As soon as it's off I let her go. She immediately flies to a high point. I let out two whistles and begin to swing the pole around in circles to the deer hide makes wide rings in the air. Athena swoops down, and I tear it away at the last moment. She makes a huge arc and dives again. I admire her determination and confidence, two things I never had. After a few swings, she catches it.
I drop the pole and walk over to her, laughing as she tries to hide the "prey" with her wings. "Nice try, girl. Give it here."
It takes a minute or so to get her off it, but when I finally do get it off, I give her a treat and put the helmet back on. Suddenly, Athena begins to get agitated on my arm. I spin around, but only find trees. Fear grips at me.
"H-hello? Who's th-there?"

[Micra]

Fergus Kaslan

It was Fergus who had been watching from the trees, of course.

It's not as though he was spying on her. In fact, Fergus was here most every day, usually accompanied by a pocketknife, a book, or on rare occasion, his sister. He had come at dawn today, but stayed later than usual. Today it was a piece of wood and his knife that were with him. Technically, he shouldn't even have a knife in his possession, but what the Peacekeepers didn't know wouldn't hurt anyone.

As he sat in under a tree in the dawn light, he was carving a figure into his wood. He wasn't quite sure what it was yet, but it was beginning to resemble the crescent tattoo on his chest. He leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes, for a moment.

When he awoke, it was to a strange voice. Decidedly female. He got up and began to make his way toward the source out of curiosity. That was when he saw the bird.

It didn't matter that it had been a mutt-in-training, not a bird that mauled him. Didn't matter that no animal had showed him ill-will since. The bird was an animal. Fergus nearly recoiled in fear when he saw it attack the girl.

But no, it wasn't attacking. It was responding to her. She had trained it. The bird shifted, and the girl turned to face where Fergus was lurking.

He stood shock still, frozen, waiting for the order to attack. He expected, at any given moment, for his scar to be re-opened, his eyes gouged out, and his heart torn from his body and devoured by the demon-bird. He tightened his grip on his whittling knife. He waited for death.

Instead, he heard the girl's voice again, much more timid than before.

"H-hello? Who's th-there?"

Fergus cautiously stepped from behind the trees, still numb with fear of the creature.

"F-Fergus Kaslan," he said, regaining his voice. He eyed the bird with a huge measure of suspicion.

"I'm not dangerous, so there's no need for that... attack bird."

[Stare]

~Luciana Tervers

As soon as I hear the voice, I jump. I was hoping no one would respond.
"F-Fergus Kaslan," says the voice, and then I see him.
He's standing there, staring at the bird with what almost looks like fear.
I immediately duck my head down so that my auburn hair falls over my shoulders and in front of my face. One of my legs automatically shifts backwards slightly, away from him. move the bird in front of me, as if sheilding myself with it. But actually, all I expect is the bird to sit there and do nothing. I'm really hiding behind it.
"I'm not dangerous, so there's no need for that... attack bird."
Attack bird? I stare at Athena. She isn't an attack bird. She's designed to hunt, just like any other falcon. Her skills are to fly high and dive low for anything smaller than her. She will only kill animals with a small enough neck for her talons to quickly break.
But then I remember. Remember that other people aren't bird loving freaks like I am. Aren't falconers.
"Athena won't hurt you," I say quietly, my brown eyes staring through a curtain of hair at him. "She's a hunting bird. Designed to only attack what she can quickly kill and eat."
Athena moves slightly on my arm, wings moving in and out slightly. I turn my attention towards her, whispering soothingly. When she seems to have calmed down slightly, I turn back towards him, my eyes filled with uncertainty. I debate what to say for a moment, and finally decide to get straight to the point.
"You were watching me," my voice isn't accusing, or angry, or upset. In fact, it has a trace of fear in it. But it does demand one thing.
An answer.

[Micra]

Fergus tried not to recoil as the stranger moved the bird in front of her. Closer to him. From behind the bird, the girl began to explain.

The bird's name was Athena, after the Greek goddess of wisdom. And war. Fergus decided not to trust Athena. He didn't have a problem with trusting the girl. He believed her when she said it wouldn't kill him. But the old scar still tingled unpleasantly under the ink every time he looked at the animal.

Fergus took a deep breath and steadied himself. Not going to kill you, not going to kill you.

Back to the matter at hand. She had stated, simply, that he was watching her, yes? He should probably explain that.

"Not really," he said, uncomfortably. "I mean, I was, but I haven't been here long. Less than five minutes, I suppose. I was out carving, and then I fell asleep. I heard your voice and came to see who you were. I was just curious. I've never seen someone else in this part of the woods before."

It had all sort of spilled out, in a big rush. Unusual for Fergus, who normally considered himself composed.

"I'm sorry if I frightened you...?" he trailed off, realizing he didn't know the girl's name.

[Stare]

I look him up and down for a moment before very cautiously saying, "Luciana. My name's Luciana."
I bring the bird down and away from him slightly, but still hide my face. Those who don't know me by my name know me by my face. Luciana. The girl who talks to birds.
But a slight hint of pride rises up in my chest. A little bit of joy, a bit of smugness, something that I only feel when I'm with a bird. And a little voice inside me whispers of how that little crazy girl who talked to birds turned out to be a bird trainer, a girl who could train a well behaved bird to hunt in just day. A little girl who could put food on her table and others' by herself.
I let my hair back a little, so I can peek out at him with big brown eyes. "I'm a falconer."
Falconer. The most powerful word I've ever said.
"I always come out her to train my birds. I train them to hunt. To put food on the table for those who can't do it themselves," I add.
Then, a sudden curiousity grabs me. I look at the person and turn slightly, seeing his obvious uncomfortableness with Athena.
"You're afraid of birds. Why? I already told you she's not going to hurt you?" I say.
Well, aren't I feeling brave today. I don't think I've ever asked another human a question like that in my whole life.

[Micra]

"Luciana. My name's Luciana."

"Luciana," Fergus repeated to himself. It was a pretty name certainly, but unfamiliar. Not that Fergus was exactly the social butterfly. Friendly but friendless. The ultimate conundrum.

The girl, Luciana, moved her hair a bit, and for the first time, Fergus caught a glimpse of part of her face. Her eyes. Big and brown. His being blue, eyes of any other color fascinated him. Silver joked that he had an "eye fetish". That may have been true, but Fergus always found a person's eyes to be their most interesting feature.

That said, he also believed he could read eyes like a book. Sometimes. And Luciana's reflected curiosity and joy.

She explained that she was a falconer, and what a falconer was. Athena was beginning to look and sound less dangerous to him. In fact, she sounded almost noble and beautiful. But he still regarded the bird with a measure of suspicion. You never knew. Those mutts were supposed to be easily trained. And three years later, the wound still ached at times. If he had been infected he could have been killed. If the mutt had struck lower and hit a lung, he could have been killed. If... Never mind. Fergus was just lucky he supposed.

Luciana noticed his adverse reaction to the falcon and questioned it. For a moment, it was silent between him and Luciana. Then, Fergus gave a bitter smile. She wanted to know? Then she'd get the whole story.

Realizing the situation might seem awkward at first, but trusting her not to scream, he unbuttoned and removed his shirt. Fergus let the garment fall to the ground. He raised his left hand and outlined the crescent tattoo opposite his heart. He took a deep breath.

"There was a scar here, once," he explained. "When I was ten, they started me on training the new muttations for the Games, and whatever else the Capitol needed them for. Three years later, one attacked me. I nearly died."

He traced the blue moon with his finger. "I got the tattoo to cover it up. I couldn't stand seeing it in the mirror. Every time I saw the scar I could feel the pain as if it were new. So I got this. It still twinges every now and again, but it passes. I haven't... I haven't looked at animals the same way since. I can't trust them."

[Stare]

I stare at his tattoo for a moment, unsure of what exactly to say. I disagree with him. That much I know. But I'm unsure how to say it and not have him tease me. Or punch me in the nose.
Finally, I point to my leather strap. "If I didn't wear this, Athena's talons would dig into my flesh, causing a certain scar and heavy bleeding, with a chance of infection and pain in my arm for at least a week."
I remember the first time that I had a bird land on me. I was in a tree again, talking with the birds, when one came extra close to me. I held out my arm for it to land on, and it did. Thankfully, it was a small bird, or I'd have scars on my arm. But I do remember the sudden shriek of pain that made the birds fly away. Including the one on my arm.
"It's never the animal's fault," I say carefully, and very quietly. I think I can hear my voice shaking. "It's ours. What we do and don't do affects how they treat us, or how things they can't help hurt us. We can t-try to maintain them, t-to train them the best we c-can, b-but sometimes we d-do things that make them feel s-scared."
Scared. Kind of like I am right now. Any minute, I'm expecting a fist to find my face, cruel words to tear through me.
"It's never their f-fault. Always-" I swallow hard, trying to steady my trembling, "-always ours."
I'm shaking like a leaf, now. In my head, images flash. Fists right about to make contact with my face or my stomach. Hurtful words ringing in my ears.
There was only one solution I could come up with. A way to try to stop the harmful hands, a way to try to take back the way I just spoke my thoughts, which I should never, ever do. My voice is small, and clearly trembling, and high pitched, but it is audible. "I-I'm s-sorry."
And yet, even when I said that, I'd still feel the pain exploding in my face as the hands of my classmates found their target.

[Micra]

"It's never the animal's fault, It's ours. What we do and don't do affects how they treat us, or how things they can't help hurt us. We can t-try to maintain them, t-to train them the best we c-can, b-but sometimes we d-do things that make them feel s-scared."

Fergus could hear Luciana's voice tremble as she spoke. He wondered, had there been some bad blood between her and an animal as well?

Was there still bad blood between her and he, himself.

Never their fault, always ours.

Fergus considered it, forcing himself to replay the moment in his head, as it had happened all those years ago.

"Go on, hit it."

"I don't want to," Fergus protested.

"It's a mutt, Kaslan. You hit 'em hard and they'll learn discipline. They'll learn fear. They will learn not to feel pain. Now use the whip like you mean it."

He struck out, hesitantly, and missed. The handler jerked the whip from Fergus' unwilling hands, knocking the butt of it against the boy's head in the process.

"This is how it's done, Kaslan." The handler struck, and Fergus hopped sideways, expecting the blow to be aimed at him. He was right. The whip whistled as it cut through the air Fergus had occupied and left a deep gash in the mutt's face. A spasm of anger crossed the handler's face. He controlled it, and handed the whip to the boy with a wolfish smile.

"Unless you want to get the same, you try again," said the man.

Fergus gritted his teeth. Better the animal than him, right?

CRACK!

The whip was in control now, and as it cracked in the air, the mutt moved with blinding speed. Fergus fell to the ground, and pain and blood blossomed from his chest. He screamed in shock and agony while the handler just laughed.

Fergus couldn't go further than that into the memory. There was too much pain. But it had, he supposed, been his fault. He'd had the whip. But was it really his fault, or the handler's? Did it matter.

"You can't change the past," Fergus whispered.

"I-I'm s-sorry," squeaked Luciana, reminding Fergus of her presence.

"Why?" he asked. "You haven't done anything wrong."

[Stare]

~Luciana Trevers

For one split second, I want to cry. Just to tumble forward, onto the ground, facing the ground, and cry. Mostly of because of what he just said. I didn't do anything wrong.
I didn't do anything wrong.
That's what she had said so many years ago. And of course, the teacher believed her. The teacher seemed to believe everyone but me. And after I walked out of view, she kicked me to the ground and raced away laughing. That was the first time I had ever been hit or kicked physically. The wind was knocked out of me as I squirmed on the ground like a fish out of water. And when I could breath, the first thing I did was cry.
And so, with this memory in mind, I stand there, shaking. This makes Athena nervous. The shifts on my arm, wings spreading slightly as she moves. With a trembling hand I stroke her. "It's okay. It's alright. You're fine."
I think I'm half talking to myself.
Finally, I turn my whole face towards him. My hair hands in my face, and I stare at him with my big brown eyes.
"I've done everything wrong," I say. "I shouldn't have said anything."
Then I wince away expecting the blow to hit me at any second. "J-just don't bruise my r-right arm. That's the arm I hold m-my bird with."

(OOC: Sorry for taking so long! And yes, she's a huge mess, but she's my huge mess!)

[Micra]

Fergus didn't associate with people very often. Read as- Fergus didn't associate with people and have them break down like a helpless mess in front of him very often.

He breathed deeply, trying to ignore the restlessness of the bird. it had to be harmless

"Bruise... No, I'm not going to hurt you. No."

But Luciana recoiled from him, as if he had already hit her. Why did she expect to be hit? To Fergus, it was a foreign concept. She was afraid of people in the way that he feared animals. Was it for the same reason? Had people attacked her? Did she have her own scars to hide, the kind that couldn't be covered?

He would have tried to awkwardly comfort her, but the idea of moving closer to that bird paralyzed him.

"I'm sorry you're afraid. Is it like the animals? Ma- Maybe just because one wronged you doesn't mean you can blame all anim- I mean, people as a whole. Maybe we both have something to learn."

In spite of his nervous speech, one of the longest he'd ever made, Fergus didn't feel any less afraid of animals, and he doubted Luciana was any less afraid of people. But with scars that deep, can you ever fully heal?

[Stare]

~Luciana Trevers

I stare at him for a moment, with big brown eyes. Unsure of exactly what to say or what to do, as usual. I bite my bottom lip in uncertainty for a moment.
"Maybe. I don't know lots of people. Too afraid. All I know is if I say anything that another person disagrees with, I deserve to be hit. Or kicked. Or pushed to the ground. Bruises and pain come with any words that are out of place. That's how it works. That's how it's always worked."
Saying this out loud, I realize just how true those words are. I've always thought that, every single day. But saying them, the real hard truth that I'd sometimes try to hide from really hits me. I have no say. In anything.
"I'm just a girl. Popular girls can spread nasty rumors. I'm not popular. Strong people can speak their mind. I'm not strong. Grown ups can hit girls like me when they stray out of line. I'm not a grown up."
I shrug for a moment, knowing none of these things matter. I've never tried to hide the bruises, and occasionally, the cuts. People know what happens to me. No one tries to stop it, even when my dad hits me in front of his friends. They don't tell him it's wrong.
"No one wronged me, Fergus. Everyone treats me this way. Well, except you, but others..."
I trail off for a moment, realizing that my voice isn't shaking. I guess surprise kind of overrided fear.
"It's not wrong for people to hit me when I speak my mind. I deserve it."

[Micra]

OOC: I can't even express how bad I feel for not replying sooner. I meant to, several times, and just... forgot. I can't believe it's been a month, sorry! D:

Fergus always knew he led a privileged life. His parents, they'd never dream of hitting him. People didn't really bully him because he was big enough to deter them. That, and they had seen what he'd done to the last person to make fun of Silver. If that had just been his sister, they were probably terrified of provoking him. But Fergus was pretty much a pacifist, when it came down to it. And the idea of violence enraged him.

But abuse? Hitting someone who can't fight back? He stared into Luciana's brown eyes, and felt terrible. She thought it was all okay, and that she deserved to be hit. How did she take that? Luciana claimed that she wasn't popular, strong, or grown up. It wasn't her fault. None of it was her fault. Why couldn't she realize that people couldn't hit her simply because they disagreed?

He had seen the faces of others like her at school. The kids whose mothers and fathers would drink, hit them, hit each other, hit the siblings. Fergus had heard horror stories, but he never thought it could get to the point that a child thought she deserved to be someone's training dummy.

"You're wrong, you know," said Fergus softly. "Popular, that's stupid. And you'll be grown up one day. And you're lying when you say you're not strong." Anybody who can go through that... you have to be strong to survive, don't you?

"People don't have a right to hit you, for any reason. Especially not when you disagree with them. Sometimes, speaking your mind, it's all you have when the people in charge take everything else away." Fergus looked quickly around, as though he'd said something he shouldn't. But the bushes couldn't report to the Capitol. They were bushes.

A wind rippled through the forest in the silence. Fergus could hear the leaves rustling. He wanted to tell Luciana how much she meant in the world, but he barely knew her. He wanted to say it would all be okay, but he didn't know if it would be. He was so sorry about everything that had ever happened to this girl who was a stranger to him, and he wanted to say it. He just didn't know how to.

[Stare]

((OOC: It's fine, don't worry about it!))


I feel my muscels relax, and am confused. Why aren't I scared? It seems like the more I talk, the more relaxed I get. Was it only minutes ago that I was expecting him to hit me?

"But... but no, that's not how it works," I insist. "I mean, if I do something wrong, I have to know, right?"

Right, I hear a small voice in my head say, but somehow, it seems wrong.

I nod, confirming what I just said, and move on. "And someone has to show me what I did was wrong. So if I speak out of turn, they hit me. It helps teach me not to do it again. I mean, why would words solve anything? They never have. A bruise teaches a better lesson then a word. Although the right words, if spoken harsh enough, can leave a pretty big impression too."

The words come out thoughtfully, as I try to explain all I've know to him. Of course, I assumed this is how everyone's life works, but I'm obviously wrong, I can tell by the confusion on his face.
For a moment, I stand there, and realize what a sharp turn my personality has taken. I guess the realtionship of fear has made me more comfortable. More at ease.

"Fergus, being hit... it's not wrong. At least, not to me. People know I'm hit. I come to school with bruises almost every day. They know what happens to me, and they don't do anything. They would do something about it if it were wrong, right? Because that's the thing you're supposed to do if something's wrong?"

I feel like I'm a teacher explaining something to a student. My voice is asking something, but it's not questioning my knowledge. It's questioning the other person's.