Chapter: 314 Bonus - Terry (Patreon)

Thank you for your patience last month! This is a second bonus this month, though it is on the shorter side. I hope to get you all a fun one next month, too. 😊

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Terry was tired.

He was well rested but still tired.

He missed his mate.

He missed his hatchlings.

He missed his flock.

But none of this was new.

Each of these feelings had been his companion for longer than he’d had those that he’d lost.

His own body wouldn’t allow him to starve to death. He could lay, unmoving, for hundreds of years and not be much worse off.

Even without that, his instincts wouldn’t allow him to languish in mourning for too long.

His need to stalk and hunt was almost as great as his need for his flock.

Only one of those needs could be satisfied.

And so, he had hunted.

He considered attacking beings who could slay him, but that would be a betrayal of all that he was.

He was a survivor.

So, Terry had survived.

He had hunted those he could take with ease, without risk.

Until her.

The strange human had been so breakable but wouldn’t die.

He had heard her bones cracking, but his claws didn’t find purchase. Instead of being cut, she had begun to glow where he struck her.

Then, the bones hadn’t been broken any more, and she’d given him jerky.

That had been a pleasant surprise. He’d never really focused on what humans ate before. It had turned out that that was a mistake.

As to the mended bones, Terry had known that humans had magic to heal themselves, but he’d never had occasion to see it for himself. None of his targets had ever survived his initial assaults to receive such care.

Humans were just too fragile, especially if caught unaware.

This one… this one was different.

This one was durable.

Terry had followed her, and she turned out to be fascinating to his instincts.

He couldn’t quite understand her, and he needed to understand.

He’d been following her ever since, even into places that he knew he should have avoided.

There was absolutely no reason he should have expected to survive his trips into the magic city of not-humans, but she had been in there, and he had found her eventually.

Now, he found himself with food, a safe nest, and a travel companion.

He didn’t know what to do with himself.

He felt the distant, deep ache for those he had lost.

He felt the drive to survive and grow.

But drives are not wants.

Terry didn’t want anything, not really.

He knew that he should feel more than he did, and he knew it was partially due to his limited capacities as an arcanous creature that he couldn’t feel more.

He could have become a magical beast, but he had avoided that, not wanting the added weight. Though, he didn’t think of it that way.

He shied away from forming a connection with a powerful source of magic because something about what was offered contained pain.

He knew that everything would change if he accepted such a connection, such a bond.

Besides, for the moment Terry had little hatchlings to train.

Human or terror bird, hatchlings were hatchlings.

While this crop was older than ideal for such basic lessons, they were progressing.

These last blinks had been… interesting as he had traveled with the durable one.

She had been terrible at fighting.

She would have been dead a dozen times over without her seemingly unending survivability, and not just because he could have killed and eaten her at least that many times if he had been interested in doing so.

Now, though? She seemed to be getting better.

She was so young, barely more than a hatchling herself, but she already fought as well as many of the older ones of her species.

Not that that said much.

She still shouldn’t be able to kill him, but if he had met her in the wilderness as she is now, he would have avoided her.

And she wanted to spar with him.

More than that, she wanted to make their flock permanent.

The same knowledge of pain waited alongside that bond, according to his instincts, making him hesitant.

But that was not this moment.

In this moment, the little hatchling he was stalking bent to smell a flower, but by the way she turned to the side slightly, she was watching behind herself.

That was good. She was learning.

With the ease of blinking, Terry made ‘behind her’ into the location he was standing, on the side where she wasn’t looking.

It was a simple act, one that he had done uncountable times before, and it happened without effort or delay.

He simply knew that he was located there, and he was.

The sky was blue.

He was a terror bird.

Trees need leaves.

He stood there.

It was simply so.

The little thing turned back to the flower, content that she had foiled an ambush.

Terry, standing as close as he was, had two conflicting instincts.

The first, and far weaker, was to kill the creature and consume her. It wouldn’t be hard, but it wouldn’t supply him with much.

The second, and the far more powerful, was to protect, shelter, and train the tiny thing.

He followed the second instinct, striking out to push her over with the back of his talons.

He squawked irritably, even though he was proud that she was progressing.

It was rare for one so old to learn so well.

Terry often reminded himself that humans grew slower, but it was still odd for one to be considered a hatchling for more than the first two years.

It was unnatural, even.

But that was alright. Humans were unnatural down to the core of their being.

Unnatural didn’t mean evil.

The little chick squawked back at him, disgruntled that he had outmaneuvered her and upset that he had used magic, but he didn’t care.

This world had magic, and he would be a poor teacher if he trained her only to survive those few without it.

The durable one needed training, needed sharpening.

He was avoiding that.

He trilled in irritation at his wandering mind, catching the hatchling off guard with the sound.

She stumbled backwards, eyes widening in fear.

Terry sighed in frustration at himself. He had let a bit too much of his anger into that trill.

He was beside her, smaller in size and snuggling against her cheek.

The hatchling calmed quickly, taking comfort in his small form.

There was foolishness there, but it was a useful tool for his teaching.

He would not break her of it, not yet.

He did shudder as he considered the most dangerous foe he’d ever fought.

The rabbit had been numerous, strong, and surprisingly competent in battle. Strangely, eating it had yielded no sustenance at all, putting him in a place where there was no good outcome.

Terry had fled its enclosure as quickly as he was able.

He had no doubt that, were it free to roam this dimension, it would be a great threat to all life in this world.

But his mind was wandering again, an annoying habit he had picked up recently, even as he had noticed his own thoughts growing more complex.

Terry forcibly turned his focus back to the hatchling under his charge.

She was fully placated once more. So he was elsewhere, standing a distance away and chirping at her.

It was time to move on, time to ensure this one got back for her midday meal.

A short time later, Terry was still contemplating the durable one as he stalked his next pig.

He didn’t need to eat them, but it was diverting to pursue them.

He had pursued the durable one.

She had resisted.

He had decided to help her.

She still needed him.

He had refused to fight with her.

Fighting to train hatchlings was the duty of all.

Fighting to train adults was the province of a flock.

Flocks were bound together.

Bonds were openings for pain.

Terry squawked in anger and slew the pig.

It obviously was small enough to fit within his mouth, regardless of his current stature, so it did.

He swallowed without savoring the kill.

Either they were a flock, or they weren’t.

A flock must be strong.

To be bound, to hold together, a flock had to be capable.

If he were honest with himself, he had waited too long.

She wasn’t a hatchling any more.

He had decided.

He moved across the landscape at his desired speed, occasionally using his taloned feet.

A true test was needed.

She wouldn’t try to kill him, so it wouldn’t be a lethal exchange, but if she couldn’t hold her own, it was time for him to leave.

If he stayed longer, he would be bound in one way or another.

He had to know for sure.

He hoped he wasn’t already too late.

He found the human woman stretching in the large, flat circle of stone.

“Terry?”

He trilled at her, moving forward in a fake attack before flicking back.

She stood fully upright, flashing her teeth at him in an appropriate way, “Oh? You’re ready for a spar?”

He slowly bobbed his assent.

Something in her movements assured him that she would take this seriously. “As you wish.”

After this, they would either part ways or be a true flock.

One way or another, he was ready for their last match as traveling companions.

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