NANOWRIMO Excerpt from Hannah

I let the wind ruffle my feathers, huddled in the corner, the two iron chains wrapped around my ankles like tireless coiled snakes. Not that there was anything wrong with snakes. They make really good mid-day snacks.
I hear the door swing open again, but there was no laugh of the soldiers. Slowly, talons scrape along the floor, and eventually stop beside me. I know who it is, but I don’t move. I’m tired.
“I’m sorry,” Nyk says softly, putting some benite moss on some of my bad scratches. I finally look up, and my expression darkens. In the growing dawn, I see the twinkle of a bronze metal-mask. He sees my expression and opens his beak to explain, but I turn away, closing my eyes again.
“Go kill some more owls. Maybe you can capture more that were just like us.” I whisper. Nyk gives up, saddened, and walks away, disappearing like a ghost from the fading shadows. A single rebellious tear rolls down my feathers.
He will join the fallen owls. There is no longer any hope of a single owl escaping the lies.
I fly up the cone-shaped ceiling and corkscrew through the opening at the top. The night air rushes to meet me, the cold nip of the Dilecta winds greeting me warmly. Well, technically, coldly, since it feels like it blankets me in ice.
I remember the voices in the wind. I remember meeting Rhi, and now, by the sound of her voice, I know that it was her, searching for someone in the night mists. She seemed to be the type that tried to give hope to other owls, to give them something to hold onto. I’m sure that was it. She seemed to know no one else, and only had ties to the captured owls in general.
Maybe I should carry on the tradition.
So, with that thought, I give a mighty screech, something full of power and an undefeatable energy, something invigorating. In response, I hear a few more distant screeches, joining my call for the greats. I have to try and see if they’ll resist. Whoever makes it through, I’ll save. I’ll give them that.
A soft “hello” hadn’t seemed appropriate for the state these owls were in. They needed some battle-adrenaline to pull them through. Give them a beat to march to.
So I screech again. Now there are dozens of owls making a choir of screeches, resounding answers that proclaim a rebellion. As my screech dies away, I smile. I will lead them to victory against Byhi and the Pauraque. That’s what I want to do.

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