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Flash: Raptors by the Sea

Photo from Unsplash

The endless blue where the sea met sky brings Mave around for another soar on the updraft from the overheated air baking above the beach sands. She could stay up here forever, at least the part of her which flies begs her to. Enough human remains to acknowledge the fatigue, and monitor the time in form to nudge her into finally landing on a dead tree hanging over the cliffs protecting the isolated cove.

Transforming into her birth form, the female shifter leans against the denuded trunk. Far below the waves race up the shoreline, the cove’s sandy beach disappearing under the incoming tide. Soon she would need to return to the Tower Aerie; at least this time, her explorations brought her to a place she would be flying east. Last adventure had her flying into the sun during the final hours of the day.

A second raptor, a black version of her white and tan bird, flies over the western cliffs. With a scream, it dives into the ocean and comes up with a fish, then turned her way. Concentrating on the food in its claws, it doesn’t notice her partially hidden by the trunk until the creature’s wingspan is spread for landing on the branch.

It caws, and banks too late, making an undignified startled landing, before the being transforms into a man, the fish falling back into the ocean beneath them.

“A little help here,” he says, holding onto the branch one handed until he swings the other to hug the branch from beneath. Mave laughs and walks the branch to where he is holding on, feeling no give in the dead wood nor hearing any cracks. As a bird shifter, his arms would be stronger than his legs. He didn’t need any assistance, and she tells him as much.

Flashing a smile, he says, “Can’t blame a guy for trying,” before he twists up, his muscles rippling across his arms and bare torso. Once on the wide branch, he stands easily, looking down at her, his height a hand’s width taller than hers. “Bryce, High Cliffs Clan.”

“Mave, Stone Tower.”

Bryce’s black eyes darken to raptor pupils, his smile widening. The limited size of the branch has Mave taking a step back to lean against the trunk.

“A bit far aflight for one of the plains folk.” He closes the distance, resting an arm against the trunk.

She could see the feather pattern lining his arm, looking like a tattoo against the human skin.

“I needed to think.”

He moves close enough, Mave could feel the heat radiating off Bryce. His hands smells fishy, but his hair and skin smell like wind and sea.

“About what, my pretty bird?”

Mave rolls her eyes. “Oh goddess, please.”

“Too much?” Bryce backs up.

“Your clan short on females?” Mave shakes her head. “Have you had any practice at all with flirting?”

“Actually no for both.” Bryce sits down on the wood, picking at one of the few pieces of bark the prevailing sea winds hadn’t stripped from the tree. “All the women ahead of me are happily paired off, and all those younger than me are too much younger than me, if you know what I mean. So, we got women, just none I could practice with. All I got is pretty much what Mom and Dad say to each other. And I just tried one of Dad’s favorite lines.”

“Oh, no.” Mave, covers her mouth to hide her laughter. “Your parents are complete corn-balls. You are so screwed if you must court at the Aviary Gathering next Spring.”

“Yep,” Bryce turns his smile up to her, “but maybe it will work on someone and I get something like what they have. They completely are in love and just dive into their little nothings like a fish is just three inches under water. How about you? Any male back home ruffling your feathers?”

The giggling smile erases from Mave’s face. “That is why I’m thinking.”

“That can’t be good.” Bryce face firms, his voice deepening. “Would it help to talk it out with someone with no feathers in the aerie? That is, if it is something you feel comfortable about talking outside the clan.”

“I’m in a bidding war.”

“Ugh, like cock fighting level?” At her nod, Bryce asks, “How many involved?”

She stares back out at the sea. “Four.”

“Your clan have no women at all?”

“Oh, we got a good mix, but ….” Mave pushes against the trunk to stand without leaning. “I’m the fastest, male or female, daughter of the present lead flyers, granddaughter of Stone Tower.”

“In other words, whoever wins and builds your nest, is the next leader.”

“They wish.”

Bryce chuckles. “Only the highest nest for you, and you don’t think any of them can fly that high.”

“I know they can’t. None of them have followed me out here.” She waves her arm at the expanse before them, the ocean turning slightly pink as the sun dips low to see its reflection in the waters.

“Did you want them to follow you?” He cocked his head to the side.

Mave shakes her body once, settling her mental feathers. “I don’t really know. … I really wish I knew.”

“Would you like me to follow you?”

The growl is more human than bird, and makes Mave shiver her feathers flat again. Pulling together her dignity, she dares a challenge. “You think you could?”

“Not today,” Bryce nods to the west, “I would need to let my clan know. But … tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here.” Mave steps off the branch and transforms mid-fall, skimming along the waves filling in the cove below. A shadow flies overhead. She slaps her wings against the water and pulls up to see the dark raptor circle above before heading west. Mave screeches, circling once, before heading east.

(words 980, first published 9/10/2023)

Raptors by the Sea Series

  1. Raptors by the Sea (9/10/2023)
  2. Outside the Aerie (11/19/2023)
  3. Oghan’s Return (12/17/2023)

Magical Words: Grist for the Mill

Photo by Josue Escoto on Unsplash

Laughter. Tears. New job. Old friends. Unexpected disaster. Planned joy.

All Grist for the Mill. The old saying “Write what you know.” doesn’t mean learn how to fight if you are going to write about fighting, it is knowing the emotions leading to the fight. Write emotions you understand, situations you have lived. You may never figure out a murder when a body is missing, but you have had to figure out where the TV remote has ended up.

In “Grist for the Mill: Emotion and Creativity”, David B. Coe discusses life events which impacted and found their way (changed to protect the innocent and guilty) into his writing. He closes the Magical Word post on August 26, 2013 with asking people to post excerpts from their stories where their personal life strengthened their writing. The comments are very poignant, and I highly recommend reading them.

The URL is:

Book Review: You Sexy Thing

Amazon Cover

You Sexy Thing by Cat Rambo

BOOK BLURB ON AMAZON

Just when they thought they were out…

TwiceFar station is at the edge of the known universe, and that’s just how Niko Larson, former Admiral in the Grand Military of the Hive Mind, likes it.

Retired and finally free of the continual war of conquest, Niko and the remnants of her former unit are content to spend the rest of their days working at the restaurant they built together, The Last Chance.

But, some wars can’t ever be escaped, and unlike the Hive Mind, some enemies aren’t content to let old soldiers go. Niko and her crew are forced onto a sentient ship convinced that it is being stolen and must survive the machinations of a sadistic pirate king if they even hope to keep the dream of The Last Chance alive.

 

MY REVIEW

You Sexy Thing is a fun sci-fi read. Want aliens? Got aliens of all kinds. Want space stations? Yep, got that too. Want space pirates? Sure-in-dippity-do. Wide-ranging space politics? Got that. Military sci-fi? A bit of that too.

Food. Space food – so much cooking. Takes it a level beyond normal space opera and makes a unique world of space critics and teaching AI ships steps beyond replicator food. All while giving you aliens, space stations, pirates, politics, and military in space expected of the genre.

Basically think a hamburger, but presented with the perfect bun, lettuce, a side of pickle, and, oh, a delightful hot fudge sundae to end the meal. Everything you want – up a level in presentation.

Flash: Forging Hard Metal

Photo from Unsplash

“When are you going to be done?”

“When I’m damn well ready,” the blacksmith cursed over the roar of the forge, her voice rough from long hours over the heat.

The patron edged closer to the line of brick demarcating the store from the workspace, the elder of the blacksmith’s apprentices rocking from foot-to-foot beside him, not wanting to interfere with or touch the noble, but the lad would the instant Ferdous breached the safety measures. The other youth worked the bellows. Searing heat kept the noble at bay better than reason. “I need the horse now.”

“You needed to have brought me Goliath yesterday then. None of the normal shoes fit that behemoth,” Maddy screamed into the flames, not taking her eyes off the glowing coals and the red horse shoes softening there. “Take a different one from the stable.”

“I’m not riding to the capital on a gelding.”

“Then come back tomorrow when big man is properly shod.” Because while her patron would risk riding his animals without shoes on their hooves, his wife paid both her and his stableman to keep the man from his own stupidity and everyone in the fiefdom knew who pulled the purse strings. His option was one of the normal riding horses, not the breeding stallion who had been in the pasture for the last year, if he wanted now.

“The summons is in two days; I don’t have time.”

Pulling out the first of the shoes, Maddy moved over to the anvil, nodding to the groomsman holding the chestnut stallion in the stall alongside her forge area. She picked up the hammer, looked at the man who owned the county and all the souls therein, and shook her head. Everyone had seen the royal herald arrive this morning; for once, the demand wasn’t simple stupidity. “I’ll do what I can. Two hours. Get packed and get back here. Penner, go get Merry.” The elder apprentice took off at a run. “And my Lord, have someone bring Goliath’s tackle if you are in that much of a rush.”

Ferdous narrowed his eyes are she swung her hammer, ending their conversation.

(words 358, first published 9/3/2023)

Memes: Writing Advice (Two)

During the Saga Professional Writer’s Conference (http://sagaconference.com/), I got inspired to make writing advice memes and did so immediately when I got home. I then proceeded to release them during the A-to-Z blogging challenge in April (http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/). But it is time to collect them all in one place.

My previous Meme packages:
Write Something (6/30/2016)
Write Something (Two) (10/2/2017)
Write Something (Three) (10/4/2019)
Write Something (Four) (11/10/2021)
Writing Advice (3/29/2022)
Political Memes (1/31/2023)
Writing Advice (Two) (8/29/2023)