Summer Games: Talon Toss [Mercury]

The wind was sharp today, blowing aggressively along the top of the cliff face and down into the valley below. Blue skies and green grass, some might say it seemed like a good day to fly. Yet, here we are, it’s a festival day and Mercury would rather be anywhere else, like home, sleeping, or bathing in the riverbed. Anywhere but here basically.

Mercury and her rider, Vishnal, stood atop a steep cliff awaiting the signal to start the games. She had been pacing back and forth, digging her claws into the dirt, wishing it was looser and less grassy. Maybe if she got herself dirty enough it would coax her dear rider into giving in to her wants to leave. Vishnal stood nearby watching her antics knowing very well that she, out of all of the stryx he tended to, was the most likely to succeed in this particular game. It was almost their scheduled time to start and he waited ever so impatiently. He wanted to finish this just as much as his bird did.

In the line of sight below them, a lengthy stretch of field. Closer to the cliffside they stood upon, lie a stack of sticks, logs, uncertain to them with her large size in comparison. Beyond that? Clear, unbothered turf with the judges safely off to the side, in a red and white tent-like structure, near the pile of logs, clear out of the way of the throwing field. The plan, in theory, is for Mercury to dive alongside the cliff to pick up speed, grab one of these ‘sticks,’ and throw it as far as she can forward once she has ahold of it. Of course, this is only in theory as Mercury has a bad habit of not following orders. Especially not when she would rather be taking her precious bath.

Vishnal had moved near the edge looking towards the judges for the queue to begin. It’s time, he’s sure of it. He reassuringly pats the large bird's side as she moves closer to the edge to stand near him, in an effort to gain her favor before the games set to begin. They’re both unsure if it works but soon enough, they both hear the whistle and Vishnal gives her a light shove towards the edge of the cliff. It’s her time to shine.

She slips gracefully off the edge, talons kicking up tufts of grass on her forward bend down. She snorts at the prospect of covering her rider in dirt and soon enough, she’s off. Wings tucked close to her sides, she stays close to the cliff on her descent. She picks up speed fast and soon enough, she's close to where she should be.

As soon as the ground draws nearer, she snaps her wings open and lets herself glide ever so speedily to the stick pile. She wavers slightly as she gets closer but still manages to successfully pick out her stick. She grasps the one at the top, a medium-sized log, in her talons and lifts herself back upwards. She gives a few more steady wing beats to brace herself and oh no. Mercury. What are you doing?

She turns sharply, with the stick in hand, to the side and flings the log straight at the judges mere meters away. The log hits the framing of the tent and falls to the ground leaving everyone inside unharmed, but still scared for their lives nonetheless. It’s safe to say Mercury will not be invited back to the games the following year. But still, will they score her? Vishnal crouches at the top of the cliff trying to remain unsees while he awaits the answer to that question.