What Have I Been Hearing?

The next day the girls had let their father sleep in for as long as he needed. After the intense emotions of the night before, they all quickly fell asleep in a makeshift tent from the canopy net they had made earlier that day. Thankfully, throughout the night, the rain had gone from a light sprinkle to nothing at all, and still no storm was in sight. The only sound they heard as they drifted to sleep was the familiar call of a nearby Barred Owl, which was always a comforting sound to them.

When Flint woke up, he was disoriented at first as to what day or time it was. Making him more anxious was realizing that all three girls were not there. “Girls!” he said in a panic. “Girls, where are you?” He began to search rapidly when he heard the familiar giggle of all three of them returning to him from the west.

Flint barely caught his breath from his panic before he began to question them, “Girls, where were you?”

“We were just over at Naida’s house, Daddy,” Flurry responded. Without giving him the time for a follow-up question, she continued, “we had so many nuts from our scavenge yesterday, we thought we’d drop some off to her.”

“Oh…” Flint remarked in relief. “How is Naida?”

“She’s fine,” Picnic answered in her matter-of-fact tone. “She still hasn’t fixed anything in her tree. She said she wants to wait awhile and make sure there aren’t any more storms first.”

“Hmm… Maybe we should have tried that strategy,” Flint said in jest. “But, in all seriousness, how is she? Is she doing alright? Squirrels her age…well, how is she?”

“She’s great!” Flurry responded. “She’s her normal funny self. She misses Scraps still—but she’s missed him ever since we’ve known her.”

“—Did you know Scraps?” Tickle piped up.

Flint looked at her, “No… I’m afraid not. When your mother and I moved here, Naida was already by herself. But I’m glad to know she’s doing okay. … And she still has Wally to help her?”

“Yes, he’s still there,” grumbled Picnic.

“Still not a fan of Wally?” Flint wondered.

“Well, he just kind of sits around and doesn’t do anything. He mostly eats her food.”

Flint chuckled a little. “Yes, I suppose he does. … He’s been in that same tree a long time too. They’re good neighbors, but with Wally’s bad eyesight, there’s not a whole lot he can do—except keep Naida company that is. But I’m glad he is there for that because…” Flint hesitated but only for a second. He knew his girls were listening to him the previous night. He knew they understood that even though he was crying at times and obviously distraught, his plans for a possible move were genuine. And he knew they were ready for what he was going to say.

“Because I didn’t want to leave Naida all alone. And we need to start moving today.”

Of course, the three kits responded in their own ways:

Flurry: “So we’re moving!?”

Picnic: “Today?”

Tickle: “Why can’t Naida be alone?”

Ensuring he had their attention, Flint responded, “Yes. We need to move today. Why today? Because what better time? Our house was destroyed—again—just yesterday, and it’ll be nice to have a change of scenery. … We don’t even have to move too far, at least, I don’t think. But we can just try it out and see what it’s like. It could be fun…?” The last part of his statement seemed more like a question, but the kits didn’t seem to mind.

“Oh!” he continued, “Tickle, the reason I’d prefer Naida not to be alone is because she’s pretty old for a squirrel, and her kids moved south to Woodland Haven a long time ago. They’re not able to visit that often, and it’s always good to have company—especially when you’re older.”

“Daddy?” Tickle had to ask a follow-up question.

“Yes, dear?”

“If Naida didn’t have Wally to stay with her, would we still move?”

Flint paused before answering. He knew the answer, he was just never sure of himself and how to communicate his thoughts to each of his girls. “That’s a great question, Tickle,” he started. “I want to say no and yes. It probably depends.”

“On what?”

“Well… I would’ve talked to her about my decision and tried to find out if she would be okay by herself, or if she would prefer us to stay here with her—or maybe if she’d like to come with us, although I don’t see that happening in a thousand years. Ah! But maybe we could take her to Woodland Haven to be closer to her children.”

“Oh...” Tickle was thinking this through. “But…we’re not taking her with us?”

“No. Not if Wally is still there. And I know he won’t want to go with us. … Besides, I really don’t know that we’ll move that far away. Then again, I really don’t know much these days. The Creator knows, and that’s what’s important!

“Why don’t we pack up and start going. We don’t want to lose any more sunlight than we already have,” he continued as they pulled the net-canopy down and rolled it up. He asked them, “Girls?”

“Yes, Daddy?” they replied in unison.

“Are you alright with this?” he asked in earnest.

The girls had been through so much in the past month; yet their love for their father and their loyalty to him hadn’t budged an inch. They each responded:

Flurry: “Of course!”

Picnic: “Yeah.”

Tickle: “I’m alright with it.”

Flint just smiled, loving each of their individual personalities. “Well then…I guess let’s get moving,” he said as he strapped the rolled-up net-canopy on his back.

“One more thing, girls…” he said as they began trekking east.

“Yes, Daddy?” they replied.

“Thanks for letting me sleep in,” he said warmly.

The girls just looked at each other and back at him. “You’re welcome,” they responded in unison. And off they went, while the Barred Owl from last night watched silently as they left.

It was chilly inside the cave in one of the peaks of Mount Tazzo. Gathered there were about twenty raptors—including Worrick and Ripple—from all over the entirety of Silva Island. They formed quite a nice circle in the cave as they caught up with each other: discussing where each had been living lately, how the food situation was, how everyone’s families (if they had them) were doing.

And then a strong-looking Bald Eagle named Teylon waved for their attention and began speaking in an authoritative voice, which had a low timbre. “Friends!” he announced. And while he looked and sounded youthful (though he was actually well along in age), so authoritative was his voice that the cave became so quiet that the only sound you could hear was the wind outside.

“Friends, I know you’re wondering why I’ve summoned you here. And let me start by thanking you for making this journey. I know it was a long one for quite a few of you, and for some of you, I’m sure, very difficult.” At this, some of the raptors gave a slight glance to Ripple—not to be rude, but simply because they were amazed a bird his size had made it up this high.

Teylon continued, “As you know, my plans several years ago were to retire in my home northwest of Silva, at the peak you all so graciously named after me…”

“A well-deserved retirement indeed, sir!” spoke a voice from among the raptors, to which a hearty agreement was cheered on with enthusiasm.

“Thank you, friends! Thank you! And perhaps soon I’ll retry the retirement life.” Teylon began again. “But as for now, I believe it best, if you’ll allow me, to resume my position among you as your commander—since my understanding is that you haven’t yet chosen anyone to fill that position.”

“Sir,” spoke up Ferrin, a Red-tailed Hawk with a firm, rustic voice. “While I would love nothing more than to have you as our commander again, I don’t quite understand the necessity.

“We are indeed set to choose a new commander this fall, and I would be happy to give that role back to you. But why the hurry for a commander right now? As far as I know, things on Silva Island are quite peaceful.”

“Indeed,” uttered Varka, a Rough-legged Hawk, in his ice-cold but respectful voice. “All is quiet in the Shiverlands and has been for a while. There’s obviously some bouts every now and again between the wolf packs, but that’s to be expected. Nothing major though.”

“Same for the prairies as of present,” spoke up Harra in his customary quiet but stern-sounding tone. He was a Northern Harrier who frequents Buffalo Valley. He continued, “The recent storm hit the western woods pretty hard, but it hasn’t caused any uproars.”

The questions, while all respectful toward Teylon, started to gain more traction, causing the discussion to get off its main course. This caused Worrick to give a quick glance to Teylon and then, with his booming authoritative presence, simply look over the raptors and make a quick but intentional ruffle of his feathers. Accordingly, when a Golden Eagle the size of Worrick does that, they all fell silent again.

Teylon, nodding in gratitude to Worrick, continued his conversation. “Friends. Yes. I realize our schedule is to choose a new commander this fall. And if you’d like to wait until then, please do so. However,” he paused. He looked over at Worrick who had been living on the east of Woodland Haven, and then at Sigaho, a Barn Owl whose home is in the north-central area of the Human Territory. He looked at a few others from whom he had heard recently and continued his discussion.

“However…there have been several disturbing reports lately, which will hopefully amount to nothing, but may in fact lead to dangerous times.

“—Now, before you start asking questions,” he interrupted himself in order to keep the conversation on his end, “let me explain. … There have been reports of two issues that are connected. One: there seems to be a human hunter that has started to hunt north of Little Ones River.”

This caused an immediate murmur throughout the council, as no hunter has ever before in the history of Silva traveled that far north. But Teylon spoke over the murmur to get to his second point, “and Two:” he paused to make sure he still had their attention. “Because the hunter has been killing or maiming a few deer with traps, some of the deer have started to migrate north of Raptors’ Mountains.”

While Teylon expected some slight frustration at this news and even perhaps some discord conversation, he was baffled at instead being met with mostly blank stares.

Then Solas, an Osprey who knew the rivers and lakes of Silva better than anyone spoke up in his humble, but projected voice: “If I may sir…what…what exactly does this news possibly mean in terms of leading to dangerous times? … Please…forgive me, but while one hunter in Woodland Haven is unprecedented, I’m not sure many of us see how that by itself or even in conjunction with some deer migrating north to Buffalo Valley will have such dire ramifications.”

“I agree, commander,” replied Harra. “There have been many deer in Buffalo Valley for as long as I’ve been alive. And—please understand I’m sure you have a reason for your concern; but I’m just not quite seeing why a few more, or even many, would be such a terrible outcome.”

Before anyone else could chime in Ripple flew to the center of the circle and spoke with his small but confident voice, “Friends!” And as a hush fell upon them, he gave them these few words: “This is one of many reasons we so strongly wanted Sigaho in attendance. Sigaho,” Ripple looked at the wise Barn Owl, “will you please elaborate on the potential danger that is looming in our future?”

At this, all attention was now on Sigaho, who hardly ever spoke at these meetings—who actually hardly ever spoke at all. But when he did speak, it was with such importance that you simply had to pay attention.

Sigaho, not one for seeking attention, but wanting to make clear the predicament they were in, then addressed his fellow raptors.

The girls had never really ventured very far east of their home before. They had certainly never been as far as they were now, right at a slight bend where the foothills of the Silver Mountains pushed a little farther south into the woods. And by the time they reached this place, it was getting to be evening.

Although Flint had slept in earlier this morning, he was starting to get tired himself—though one can hardly blame him. Most nights he slept maybe four hours at most. So he slowed them all down and told them to be on the lookout for an easy place to spend the night.

It was at this point where Picnic had spotted an extremely odd structure. It looked as if a tree had fallen on top of another, and then started to decay—forming a somewhat livable fort.

“How about there,” she said and pointed at the odd structure.

Flint looked at it with suspicion and answered, “Hmm…that’s a good find, Pic. … You three stay here while I go check it out.” The girls naturally looked at each other with smiles about the adventure they might have if their father agreed they could spend the night there. And they began to play games as Flint went to inspect the fort.

Flint was always careful about not wanting to endanger his girls—now more than ever. They had already been through too much. He approached the structure cautiously, being vigilant to look out for snakes or other predators that might be lurking from anywhere near their possible bed for the night.

As he approached, he thought he heard voices, though they sounded more like whispers:

“Why not?” one of them spoke.

“I say go back,” another spouted.

“I warned you,” still another one.

“You’ll regret this…you’ll regret everything” yet another voice spoke.

These voices shook Flint’s spirit as he approached this now-seemingly-dreadful place to stay. He looked back at his girls to ensure they were still safe, which, by the looks of it, they were—since they seemed to be enthralled in a new game they had just invented.

Interestingly, Flint had a curious ability to be able to move very stealthily—extremely stealthily for a raccoon—to the point that it would seem he had disappeared entirely. And he used this ability while climbing up to the top of the structure to inspect these voices. However, upon inspection, he noticed there was nothing and no one there.

He jumped down into the middle of the fort and looked all around him. No snakes, no mice, no squirrels. No chipmunks, no birds. Nothing.

“Girls!” he yelled back to his kits. “Girls, did you hear anything?”

Flurry responded, “You mean, like the wind blowing?” For sure enough, the wind was picking up a tad at that time.

“No,” Flint replied. “I mean like voices.”

The girls looked at each other for confirmation. And Flurry responded, “No, Daddy. We didn’t hear any voices. Well, each other I guess.” And they each had a little giggle.

Flint finalized his inspection, and returned to his kits.

“Well…can we stay here tonight?” Flurry asked.

Flint hesitated, “I don’t know, girls…” he responded, mostly to get a reaction out of them. He enjoyed picking on them when he had the chance, which they likewise enjoyed.

“Daddy…!” they exclaimed.

“Alright, of course we can. Now listen! It does look safe, but do still be careful.”

“Yes, Daddy!” they all assured him in unison and then ran toward the fort (safely I’m sure).

Flint began to grapple with the net-canopy pack in order to drag it over to the fort, when he heard a voice again: “They’ll die,” it whispered. He dropped the pack and looked around. … There was nothing there.

“It has to just be my anxiety,” he said to himself. And he picked up the pack again and pulled it all the way to the fort.

After a delicious dinner of fruits and nuts, the four of them huddled together for bed under the roof of their lovely fort. They told stories, laughed together, and ended the evening with a prayer to their Creator.

Once the girls had fallen asleep, Flint gently maneuvered himself out of the pile of snuggles and climbed up on top of the fort. He began looking for signs of the Storm. He just knew it would strike again. While he waited and searched for these signs, he began to think of Naida.

She had been such a wonderful friend to the family for years. And he started to feel bad for just leaving without saying goodbye to her. He kept trying to justify it to himself, but couldn’t quite get over it. Why had he left without telling her? Of course, he knew why. He didn’t want her to convince him to stay. And he didn’t want to feel guilty for either not listening to her, or for staying and keeping his kits in harm’s way (surely that Storm was targeting that area for some reason, right?).

After a few hours he eventually fell asleep himself, only to be quickly awakened by a downpour of rain. “The Storm wasn’t targeting that area like I had hoped,” he thought to himself. “It really is targeting us!”

He looked into the fort from where he had been lying down and noticed the girls were protected from the roof. This downpour wasn’t accompanied by strong winds, and so he didn’t really want to classify it as “the Storm.” However, when he looked up, he saw Naida off in the distance, sitting on the branch of a tree about twenty yards away.

“Naida?” he called out. “Naida!” he yelled.

Flint looked back down to ensure the girls were safe. Seeing that they were and that the storm didn’t seem to be affecting them at all, he began to sprint west toward Naida. “Naida! Please wait!” he called out as he chased after her. Why was she now running away? And how was she moving so fast?

“Naida, I’m sorry! I…I wanted to tell you but…”

As he was running incredibly fast, climbing up trees, and jumping across branches, he came to an abrupt stop where Naida had poked her head out of a hole from just above the branch where he was standing.

“But what, dear?” she asked him. Her voice sounded a little off.

Flint was so confused and didn’t know how to respond. His main concern up until that point had been to catch up to her; and now all of a sudden here she was. “But…but…”

“Surely you know I want what’s best for your lovely daughters too, don’t you?” she replied to his stuttering. “Then again…I wouldn’t have left them with the Storm,” she said in a very peculiar tone, not like her at all. And she looked back east toward the fort. Sure enough, the downpour of rain was no longer unaccompanied by strong winds.

Indeed the winds were so strong now they were throwing large branches into the fort where the girls were sleeping.

Flint was terrified and angered. “No!!!” he called out in a rage. And he darted ferociously back toward his girls. But the winds were too strong. As he ran as fast as he could to rescue his girls, he saw the waters rise and lift the fort off the ground. The girls were somehow still inside the fort! That doesn’t make sense. But then the winds simultaneously started carrying off the fort while they threw him head-first into a rock and knocked him out.

Flint woke up with a light rain sprinkling on his head, as he was muttering the words, “No! … Girls, I’m coming…!”

He was back on the top of the roof of the fort, and taking a deep breath, he began thanking the Creator that it had all just been a terrible nightmare.

When suddenly he was startled—in real life this time—by a familiar voice saying to him, “Don’t worry about Naida.” It was a soft, female voice, and one that gave assurance in a gentle way. “She’s safe and well. And I already told her your plans.”

Flint looked up and realized why the voice sounded so familiar. “It’s you!” he said to her.

“Yes, dear. When I heard your plans to leave, I felt it best that I should follow you.”

“But…all this time, my family has always enjoyed your presence, and yet I’ve never known your name or even spoken to you.”

“That’s alright, dear. I usually prefer to keep to myself. But I think it’s clear you need some help.”

Flint was utterly forlorn at himself for having known this creature for such a long time, and yet not once ever actually trying to get to know her. “I…I’m sorry; but…what’s your name?” he requested.

“I’m Crystal” replied the Barred Owl. “And I’m a friend.”

“A friend? To someone so horrible that up until now I’ve not even known your name?”

“Yes, Flint—a friend. And you’ll need more friends as you go along this journey with your girls.”

“How do you know what journey I’m on?” Flint asked, not in a rude, confrontational tone; but in a humble, inquisitive and polite manner.

“Dear, my hearing is quite well, and I believe you think to yourself out loud more often than you realize.”

“Oh dear,” Flint winced, not realizing his own quirks were so obvious to others.

“It’s alright, my friend. … It’s actually good. It’s how I knew that I needed to help you!”

“Well…” he tried to think for a moment before asking his next question. “So…what did you tell Naida?”

“I just let her know that you were taking your girls a little further east to try to get away from the constant storm that’s been repeatedly destroying each house you build. And…well, that because of the constant beating the storm gives, you didn’t have time to say goodbye—but that you were hoping your paths crossed again. … I’m assuming that’s right?” Crystal left it open as a question.

“I don’t think I could have put it more precisely,” Flint answered. He paused a moment and then looked up at her. He said thoughtfully, “Thank you, Crystal. For telling Naida, for following us⁠—”

And their conversation was abruptly stopped by the sound of Picnic screaming.

Flint sprang from the rooftop to the side of the tree in a half a second. But by the time he could even assess the situation, Crystal had already killed the evil intruder that threatened the girls.

What had happened was that, by chance, as Picnic opened her eyes, she saw a snake near the feet of Tickle. Though stiff from fear, she managed to scream and alert Flurry and Tickle. As Flurry was about to rush over to grab Tickle out of the way, she looked and saw her father on the side of the tree staring at them.

What all of them barely saw in the meantime was the wisp of the amazingly fast and silent Crystal, who flew from the top of the fort, grabbed the snake, and crushed it with her powerful talons. After flying upwards briefly, she threw its carcass a short distance away from their camp, and then settled down to the appreciative family of raccoons.

“That was amazing!” Flint exclaimed (the girls all feeling the same thing, but still unable to speak from all the nervous fear and relief still coursing through them).

Crystal didn’t respond, as she was used to being alone and not receiving praise—which was how she liked it. So instead, she simply looked at the kits and asked: “I trust you’re all okay?”

As the girls caught their breath, they managed to assure Crystal of their well-being. Meanwhile, Flint began to search the area for more snakes. Crystal then turned to address him. “Flint, he’s gone, and he’s not coming back. You can rest now.”

“That’s just the thing though,” Flint replied. “I can’t.” He shook his head. “I knew I heard voices earlier when I was inspecting the safety of this place. And even back over there too,” he said motioning over to the spot the girls were playing at earlier in the day. “There must be more,” he continued. “I heard several earlier; and I’m usually pretty good at spotting them. They must be incredible at hiding.”

Crystal flew toward him and looked thoughtfully and intently at him, ensuring she had his attention. “Flint,” she said with a stern but gentle tone.

Flint looked up at her, and she continued. “This was just a Rat Snake. They don’t speak. They don’t whisper, they don’t hide, and they don’t travel in groups. They’re silent, and they hunt. … They don’t speak—you understand me right?”

Flint sat back on his hind paws. He looked back up at her and then over to his girls, who were all watching the conversation, and then up to Crystal again. He sighed, exhausted, and asked, “Then what have I been hearing?”