Raiha stepped out into the cool fall air. It was good, strong, bracing. Crisp. It was enough to fill the heart and and make you glad to be alive. She took in another breath now that she had left the stables, having done her morning chores - extra hands were always needed in the stables, and the dogs had been checked on as they raced around. Diallo grabbed one of the pups and carried the squalling, wriggling bundle back to its mother now that it had gotten too far. He hadn’t sired those pups, but he did a pretty good job helping their mother with them. Raiha grinned at the big white dog, and reached to ruffle his ears. “We’re hunting today, you know,” she told him. He knew what hunting meant - he always did. She scratched his ears again as she quickened her pace with the wind, her chest expanding. For once, she almost wanted to sing, and Raiha knew she wasn’t much of a singer if at all. But, she supposed, the world would be a quieter place if only the best birds sang.
It would be much quieter, Kanikra commented, even as the shadows gathered around in the Akontak’s wake, whispering and telling the Shadowplayer what all they were up to. One could get more done if you didn’t have to pick up the pieces of every neophyte and amateur around. Behind them, the three white geese, fat and sleek, followed, honking all the while. They had really grown over the last two seasons since Kavala had given them to her as a gift, and the two females and the gander were massive. They could often be found poking around the garden, weeding it, as well as chasing and honking at people they weren’t sure of. They had become surprisingly adept at navigating the stairs to and from the mews, where they shared a surprisingly large nestbox in the corner of Raiha’s room. They also had a nest in the stables, and another in the courtyard, out of sight in the shade. They still followed Raiha up to the Veranda if she let them, though she was strict about them not getting anything from the table. That had been a very difficult habit to break her gander out of when someone, and Raiha had no idea who, passed the geese a piece of crust from a loaf of bread. The fluffy, half-yellow, half-white male had been like a bird possessed until Raiha banned the three of them from the Veranda until he proved he could behave. After that, anyone who even looked like they were slipping one of those geese a treat got a versionof the stink-eye from the gold-eyed Akontak.
But that’s how you learn, Raiha philosophized. By doing. By practicing, that’s what you always tell me. She was up the stairs by then, listening to the calls of Kefi and Oanu from their flight. Oanu had settled in well from the first of the last season, and it pleased Raiha that her Kestrel, who had been getting up there in age, had found a mate at last. It had surprised her even more that the bird had had chicks - she was convinced that Eywaat had something to do with it, and for that... she thanked the God profusely. Kefi had turned out to be a good mother, and Oanu, wild-found and younger than his female mate, certainly did his due diligence when it came to sitting on the nest. And the chicks... oh, Raiha fell in love with them from the start. They were beautiful, and they had already left the nest two tendays ago. The first one, a lovely little hen chick, had gone to her new home. Raiha planned to keep two of the other four. Kestrels didn’t often live long, but Raiha wanted to make sure hers did - and while there would never be another Kefi, her chicks would be proud hunters in their own right, and, well, Raiha wanted to keep them in her life, one way or another, until Dira said it was time to go.
But not by making others cleaning up after our messes. We handle that, thank you, her sister-soul cut her off. You clean up your own mess. That’s part of the learning process. Raiha opened Chuki’s flight. Uzima was already outside, already gliding overhead. But her mate was staying in his flight for a little while yet until she came to get up, pulling her gauntlets off of her belt before opening the flight. Chuki was waiting for her on a perch. He’d been a little irked this morning that she hadn’t taken him with her when she left the mews to go into the stables, but he didn't seem too peevish with her now.
“Good morning,” she greeted the bird gravely, and offered him her hand as he stepped up onto her wrist. They’d come a long way. She’d never forget the way he’d torn her arm open and warned her about being smart and being careful. You could never be too careful when dealing with raptors. True, Raiha agreed. True. Kanikra was right. If you made the mess, you cleaned it up. Chuki was pleased to see her, and being around her birds always made her cheerful. “Forgiven? Forgotten?” she checked with him as she attached his jesses. It would be a little while yet before he didn’t have to wear them. As much as she enjoyed working with the bird and he enjoyed being with her and Uzima, better safe than sorry. He was still a little territorial and had some moments when he tried to do something stupid. She’d almost fallen off of the mews once after having to climb onto the roof to go get him.
A bird in the hand, Raiha mused, was worth two in the bush. And now, Diallo in tow - the geese had wandered back to the gardening patch - it was time to hunt. Uzima had already started following her overhead as Chuki wriggled on her arm, wings flared, ready for takeoff.
