Closed To Train a Hunting Bird

[Ife]

32nd Fall.

The hawk stared at Ife, its black eyes set on her with an unblinking gaze. She felt a tingle of intimidation creep up her spine. This bird was as domesticated as raptors could get, and still it was a menacing specimen. Nevertheless, Ife had jobs to do and so she slipped her falconer's glove onto her left hand and approached the Harris hawk. Thankfully, the bird hopped onto her arm without any issue: the easiest part of her day was complete. There would be nothing but challenges ahead.

The first of these challenges was encouraging the hawk to fly. He had been raised by hand, and though he had flied before, a hand-raised bird typically lacked that wild instinct their untamed brethren possessed to explore and escape. Each and every meal this bird had received throughout his short life had come from hand: why would he ever bother to leave this endless supply of mice and rabbit meat?

She carried the hawk to a clearing, amongst the long grasses where there stood a boulder of a good enough size to place the hawk on. Once this was accomplished, Ife unleashed the jess that had previously been connecting the raptor to her arm. He was now technically free to fly away and never return should he choose to.

Thankfully, her winged pupil did not escape. He watched Ife with mild interest, but eventually his attention was caught by a few passing bugs that fluttered by him, slowed down by the moistness of the fog that clung to the air. Ife began to retract herself away, walking backwards until the bird himself was almost engulfed by the mist. It was important that he was trained to experience as much varying weather as possible, and to perform well in all climate types. Fog in particular would be a challenge or him; a Harris hawk's strongest sense was, after all, sight.

Ife raised a small metal whistle to her lips and blew. The note was long and lowered sharply in pitch. The bird twitched in response, and after a tick of breathy silence, he took flight.

Immediately Ife regretted her decision. She could no longer see the hawk at all, and in turn she doubted that he could see her. How would he ever be able to return to her? Panicked, she raised the whistle to her lips again, this time blowing out the hawk's return call. She waited. There was not sign of him.

"Petch."

She frantically began to search for the scraps of rabbit meat that hung on her belt. After hooking a piece of meat onto the free end of the jess that had previously been attached to the hawk, Ife began to swing the leather strap in the air. It was a strange, dramatic act that falconer's used to attract the attention of a bird that had become distracted or, worse, was attempting to fly away.

She blew the whistle again.

Just as the jess strap was competing another swing above her head, Ife felt a change in dynamic and weight. The hawk had caught her offering mid-flight, and had bought it down with impressive speed and agility. She watched, wide-eyed thanking her lucky stars, as he gobbled the slice of meat up and stared up at her, clearly expecting more food.

She offered him a final piece of meat and than whistled to the bird to return to her arm. He did so, again without any fuss or trouble. "I don't give you enough credit, do I?" Ife mused as she carried him back towards Endrykas. The temptation to reach out and stroke the Hawk made Ife's fingers twitch and curl. But no: she would not, could not. Raptors were not affectionate pets and an attempt to stroke one would most likely end in a butchered, or even missing, finger.

Ife returned the Harris Hawk to his stand, reattached the jess and ensured that the other end of the leather strap was safely tied to the hawk's stand. Even in his fog, he would not escape under care.

With that, she turned to the other five birds, of varying species, and proffered, "Lunch, anyone?"

[Dravite]

Dravite looked down into the bucket of warm water in front of him as he submerged both hands and brought them back to turn a bar of soap between them until they were lathered with foam. He touched his fingers to his cheeks and rubbed the rest under his jaw before rinsing his hands to pick up the razor sat folded on his thigh. While he stroked the sharpened piece of steel against the tops of his beard to tidy up the edges and then make a start on his neck and jaw, his wife Belkaia stood behind him, twisting the long dreads of his wheat coloured hair tightly, sometimes wrapping two pieces together if one didn't look strong enough to go it alone.
"Stop pulling," he grumbled.
"Just listen to you, fuss, fuss, fuss," his wife grinned, "that was the last one," she promised, tying his hair back off his face with a thin, black leather strap.
"Good, you can help with this, I don't want to make it uneven," Dravite washed the razor before offering it to Belkaia.
She lifted the razor to his neck and drew the blade carefully up one side of his throat, "where are you going today?"
"I don't know if that's safe to answer while you are holding a weapon against my throat," he smirked.
Belkaia giggled, "Work?"
"Yes but first I've planned to stop by and see Ife about her birds."
"The girl you mentioned from the pottery class last night?"
"Yes, love."
Belkaia worked slowly, "is she pretty?"
Dravite gave his wife a sidelong glance before he scoffed, as if to say I'm not walking into this trap, "I didn't notice."
Belkaia folded the blade and set to down before slapping the man on his left cheek, "don't make me send Roan with you."
"So territorial," he teased, "you're not going pee on my leg too are you?"
Belkaia threw her head back and laughed, "There’s the reason I married you," she managed after finally bringing her bout laughter under control, "you always made me laugh."
"Good," he pecked her on the lips and bowed to wash his face before getting to his feet.

The horse lord drew his hand over the light smattering of hair on his jaw and used the only mirror in the pavilion to check that both sides of his beard were even. Satisfied, he pulled a black, long sleeved shirt on and folded up the arms of the shirt to the elbow, his windmarks visible through the V in the neck of the garment. Dravite tightened his belt over the waist of his leather pants and pushed his feet into a pair of boots Pearl had purchased for him, boots that came spring loaded with blades in the toe. It wasn't that he thought he might find a use for them this day, but one never knew.

On his way out the door, Dravite found an empty bucket and filled it to the brim with fresh water for the small herd of goats they kept. He set it down in front of Kimba, who was always more than happy to trot up and greet the horse lord. He scratched her behind the ear and picked a couple of ticks from her coarse hair before getting on his way, choosing to go on foot this morning rather than take one of the horses, which seemed dangerous in the foggy weather they were having.

When he arrived at Ife's place of work, he passed through a green tent and was greeted by a man who introduced himself as Faren. Dravite clasped the man's forearm in greeting before Faren led him into the area they kept a lot of their livestock, "so you're from the Diamond Clan?" Faren smiled, "so too are my business partners."
"Indeed," Dravite returned the warm gesture with a smile of his own, "we tend to camp on that side of the city, but haven't always been so fussy in the past."
"What brings you to the Hunter's Rest today?"
"I'm actually looking for one of your falconers, goes by the name Ife?"
"Ah yes, young Ife," the man smiled, "lovely girl, always shows up for work on time," he grinned and Dravite could tell Faren was a business man when he made statements like that, "fast learner too, I'm sure she can answer any of your questions. Are you looking to buy?"
"Perhaps not today but at some point I'd like a hunting animal, probably a bird as I'm already training up three dogs."
"Well why don't you wait here and I'll go and fetch Ife for you," Faren offered.

Dravite gave a nod of agreement and moved into the darkened tent which played host to an assortment of different sized cages, most of which were covered with dark cloth; fabrics that didn't let the light through. Curious, the man stepped forwards to lift the corner of one of the sheets of fabric to peek at the animal hidden beneath it. A large, grey coloured owl with piercing yellow eyes and black feet stared back at him, blinking at the light he had let in. Dravite smiled and carefully lowered the fabric again to leave the animal to his sleep.

The tent smelt like raw meat and feathers and was deathly quiet. He could only imagine that each cage in the room probably hosted some form of wildlife and if they were all birds of varying species he stood rather impressed. How have I not come here before, he asked himself before drifting into the adjoining tent where he found others cages, though these ones weren't all covered. In the cages closest to the ground he discovered a pair of foxes wrapped up together, the smaller of the two opening one eye to look at him. Dravite admired the animal’s thick red coat from a distance and wondered why he hadn't seen more creatures like this one out on the Sea of Grass.
"Foxes," Faren smiled, "we pick them up in the summer near Syliras; they prefer to live in the woodlands that surround the stone city; sweet little things, sly and cunning with fantastic noses."
"Good sense of smell?" The watchman inquired.
"Oh very!" Faren agreed, "Come on through this way, Ife was just feeding the birds."

Dravite followed Faren into the next tent where he spotted Ife holding up a small cube of raw meat to one of the Falcons. He smiled warmly and waved to Faren who seemed more than happy to leave their new guest in Ife’s capable hands, content to return to his work at the front of camp.
"Morning," Dravite grinned, admiring her falcon from a distance, "what a stunning creature, is he yours?" He asked; the man didn't know the difference between a young chick like Food must have been, and a fully grown adult such as the bird in front of Ife, in fact, he couldn’t even be sure that this one was a male.

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[Ife]

In Ife's line of work, dealing with tiny dead animals was a daily task. Thankfully she was not cursed with a queasy stomach, which certainly made the feeding part of her job no real challenge. For the larger eagle types, lunch consisted of two mice - or a single rat - thrown into the air for them to catch and pick apart. The smaller birds were given slices of meat, sometimes offered to them via a sharpened stick. Overfeeding was a mistake that could prove fatal for the birds, leading to a host of health concerns. Plus, of course, an over-fed bird would not perform well for tidbits, which would make training damned near impossible.

The mice and rats were killed each morning by birds that had already been successfully trained. But despite their freshness, the offerings still required meticulous inspection. In the heat of summer, a common issue was maggots. But all year around Ife needed to check the rodents for ticks, mites, and other parasites. She tentatively picked up a rat by the tail and slowly rotated it, eyes darting up and down its limp little body for any imperfections that might prove dangerous to her charges.

And there, on the back of the rat's neck, was a perfect little black dot: a tick. Instinctively Ife squeezed the insect, staining her fingertips dark red with blood. Grim work, but it needed to be done.

She continued with her work, which consisted of carrying the rodents and meat in a wicker bag back to the raptors. As always, she could not help but marvel at the variety of their species. She was intrinsically attracted to the Cyphrus eagle: the largest breed there, but in truth each type of bird was magnificent in it's own right. The Harpy Eagle was by far the most flamboyant looking bird, with a solid grey head that, when the bird was threatened or readying itself for a kill, splayed upwards to create a fabulous 'do.

Ife was standing in front of one of the resident falcons when she noticed the bird's attention flicker between the rabbit slice she held in her hand and something behind her. The falcon crouched itself down, hissing and splaying his wings broad and low. Instinctively Ife shared the bird's defensiveness and she lowered her arm, twisting around sharply to see who was approaching. "Morning," She said, her expression breaking into an easy smile and her meat-filled hand waving in a brief greeting. "no, this isn't Food. He's far more handsome." Her words were only partially a joke: Ife was so enwrapped with motherly love for her beloved Peregrine falcon, that she was fully convinced that he truly was the finest specimen of avian creation. "This one here is an accomplished hunter, whereas Food... less so. At the moment, anyway. Give him a few seasons and he'll be flying circles around this one."

She threw her final scrap of meat in the air and the falcon raised into the sky, countering the offering with his talons and engulfing it as soon as he landed on back on his perch. Feeding complete, she turned to Dravite gave him a breathlessly happy nod. Compared to their meeting last night, she was utterly in her element amongst the birds. "So. You're after a bird, yes?" She gestured to the various raptors that were lined up on their respective perches, either finishing off their meal or grooming their feathers, "shall I give you the grand tour, and then we can go from there?"

[Dravite]

Impressed by the show of skill the falcon demonstrated, Dravite found himself instantly drawn to the quick moving creature. He studied its shape, wingspan, talons, and gracefully sculpted head, "beautiful," the man thought he felt himself mouth before Ife drew his eye with her offer, "sounds excellent," the watchman presented another warm smile and hooked his thumbs over his belt as he moved to follow the young woman's lead.

Ife seemed at ease, a lot more comfortable in her own skin; he could tell she was in her element working here with the birds which made the horse lord feel instantly relaxed, as if he were speaking with someone he had known for years rather than hours. Of all the birds, the Cyphrus Eagle was the most impressive, but it was the Owls that caused him to smile like a doting teenager, fawning over their big, round eyes and comical head movements.

"I don't really know what use I have for a bird," he said honestly, "other than hunting perhaps or sending the odd message; I've never really considered myself an avid bird fan but my work takes me away from the city quite often and I suppose I wouldn't mind the company; I've heard some of them can be quite intelligent?" He spoke to Ife as if she were the expert, even though he had been told of her newness to the role as animal handler, or falconer in this case, she seemed quite at home giving him the tour and rundown on most of the birds.

Of the large hunting cats he paid little mind; his friend Lian kept two of the damned things and last season when he had visited the Dawnwhisper camp to commission some work by their youngest member, Naiya, he had found they kept them too. "This one," Dravite pointed to the sharp eyed eagle with hues the colour of cooked honey. This particular specimen had to be the most impressive of the lot so far with a proud air about him that made him seem so noble, almost as if he knew how beautifully stunning he was to look upon, "an eagle; am I right? Can you tell me more about them?"

A bird like that, he thought, was probably very expensive and would cost a bit to keep; he also didn't have the time or skill to take an adult, or bring up a helpless little chick. Dravite didn't think his funds would quite stretch to allowing him to be able to purchase a fully trained animal, and so, if he did choose to buy, he would either need to select something a little smaller today or come back next season after all his expenses were paid for and he had a little left over to play with.

He would have many questions for the woman, what did they eat, how much exercise did they need, how did their needs change with the seasons, would they need to be kept inside during the winter, and how would they fair with young children? While Ife spoke and explained what she knew, the watchman tried his best to give her his full attention, only to find his gaze time and time again pointed at one of the birds; the Falcons too drawing his eye, "and would I need to get anything special to work with the eagle, vambraces or the likes?"
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[Ife]

Ife watched with a blossoming smile as she regarded Dravite. It was a constant source of pride and satisfaction for her to see another person appreciate her winged charges. They were as glorious as any other hunting creature, in her opinion, but often misunderstanding and not fully appreciated.

In response to Dravite's statement about his debatable use of birds, Ife replied with her previous enthusiasm, "It's not an uncommon belief, don't worry. But they're marvelous at hunting and scouting, it just depends what sort of thing you'd want from a bird. Let me get some equipment and I'll introduce you to them." She held up a hand and moved it slowly in the air: wait here. With that the redhead hurried back inside the pavilion, only to return mere ticks later holding two bulky oversized gloves. After slipping one onto her left hand, she indicated that Dravite should do the same.

The eagles were first: the largest and most regal of the raptors. And of this line of avian royalty, the Cyphrus Eagle was the king. It was a truly imposing creature, with dark feathers and talons up to five inches long. The two eagles that Ife stopped in front of were a male and female breeding pair, which she suspected was the only reason they were not trying to tear each other apart. She extended her gloved hand towards the smaller of the eagles, the male, and he hopped only her arm with impressive obedience. Wincing slightly at the eagle's pressing weight, Ife turned slowly and bought her glove close to Dravite's. "No sudden movements, okay?" This brief warning was accompanied by a playful smirk so nonchalant that it completely counterbalanced the dangerousness of the bird on her arm. If the bird wanted to, this eagle could easily blind, or even kill, both Drykas. "This is a particularly fine example Cyphrus Eagle. His wingspan is about five feet across, but hers-" She indicated to the eagle's mate, "-is closer to six. But they can grow even larger than that.

It's these birds that can take down the biggest prey. Deer, wolves, even bears." Once the eagle had stepped across onto Dravite's glove, Ife tentatively indicated to his wickedly sharp beak. "We sometimes train them to also attack Glassbeaks, to act as a distraction so our hunters can do the real dirty work."

The redhead turned from Dravite and the eagle to the third stand in the row. "This is a Harpy eagle," She said in reference to a smaller, grey-feathered bird that stared at her through black onyx-like eyes. Once the eagle had hopped onto her glove, she carefully returned to Dravite. The two Harpy and Cyphrus eagles watched each other keenly, but after years of cohabitating and training together in peace, they made attempt to attack each other. "The Harpy is smaller, as you can see, and more suited to hunting rabbits, perhaps the odd fox. They also fish, whereas the Cyphrus Eagle does not." She allowed Dravite to fully drink in the fight of both species before returning them back to their respective stands. Wearing a wry little smirk, she added with a chuckle, "I just quite like the Harpy's hairstyle."

Now, unfortunately, was the time for more serious talk, as much as Ife wanted to just show off the pretty birds to her companion. "As you haven't kept birds before, I would strongly suggest that, if you were to purchase one, you'd make it a Falcon or Harrier." She led the horse lord to two stands, in which were two birds distinctly smaller than the previous eagles. Ife gestured to each bird in turn. "The harrier, on your right, is known as the beginner bird for novice falconers. They're easy to train, and respond well to their trainers as well as others." Once again she placed one bird on her glove and another onto Dravite's: this time it was the falcon and harrier hawk, respectively. "These two hunt similar prey to each other and have similar uses. But the falcon is usually quicker and smaller."

Her explanation concluded, Ife invited questions from the male -- of which he had many. She answered them with cool professionalism, always wearing the shadows of a smile as she spoke passionately about her charges. Yes, the birds would need to be kept inside during winter, or at least under some cover to protect from the worse of the snows, and be fed more as well in order for them to efficiently bulk up the thickness of their feathers. The exception to this rule was the Storm Owl, which was suited to poor conditions, and perhaps the Eagles, which were big enough to survive just about anything. On the topic of young children her answer was less certain: "The secret to a well-trained and trusted bird, is the manning. That's when you familiarise the bird to life amongst us: getting them used to other people, horses, dogs, and everything in between. But children have to be... manned to birds, as well." Her gaze flickered between Dravite's face and the falcon on her arm. "Birds aren't like dogs or cats. They show no affection or love beyond not gauging your eyes out and allowing you to hold them. As long as your children know this, and know not to try and touch the birds, they should be fine.

As for equipment, yes, you'd need to get your hands on some. If you buy a chick or fledgling, you'll need some sort of cage to keep it in. Then you'd also need a stand for when the bird is older. But to be honest, any sort of wooden structure would work." Her free hand gestured behind her to the row of stalls, of which there were various types and sizes. Some seemed to be constructed out of nothing more than scrap wood nailed together and planted firmly in the earth, whereas others appeared to have been made with more care and special design. "Then you'll need a jesse, like this--" Slowly she raised the falcon-burdened arm to show Dravite the leather strap that connected itself to the bird's food via a small ring. "And maybe a bell so you know where the bird is whilst training it. A whistle, as well..." She could have gone on and on, but instead Ife's voice trailed away. There were many responsibilities and duties when caring for birds, but she did not want to detract away from the sense of pride the magnificent creatures could give back in return. "But all of that we can discuss later. Perhaps you'd like to see the fledglings we have at the moment? I can even introduce you to Food."

[Dravite]

The eagle was heavier than the watchman had first imagined and when the smaller male was encouraged onto Dravite's gloved arm, he found himself leaning away from the creature, first to admire his impressive talons-- the powerhouse of the bird-- then the beak, which as remarkable as it looked, was also very intimidating. Dravite's grandfather Taloker Blackwater had been blinded, not by a bird or any means of battle, but his own hands; the watchman couldn't imagine living a life like that and so he remained protective of his sight, giving the eagle a respectable amount of distance.

He found Ife to be a very good teacher with a lot of valuable information to offer; it was clear she loved her job and with that infectious little smile she wore, Dravite too found himself smiling. Having held his arm up for some time, he started to feel a strain in his shoulder and decided to relax a little, bending his elbow at a right angle to change the site of strain and ease up the tension in his muscles. Soon enough, however, the eagle was traded for a hawk and the small, wisp of an animal hardly registered on his limb.

Just before Ife explained that birds didn't tend to show their handlers any affection, Dravite had raised his free hand to use the back of one of his fingers to stroke the hawk's breast and chuckled to himself as the observant creature watched the assault with keen eyes. He couldn't get the disgusted look the bird had given his limb out of his mind in a hurry, as if he had had been charged with intending to smear the creature's beautiful feathers with mud or something, and found himself laughing again.

When Ife started going over some of the questions he had posed and explained that it would be wiser for him to take a smaller bird to work with, which might one day gear him up and ready him for something bigger, he agreed with a nod. Ife made a lot of sense, or perhaps, he thought, she was just a very good saleswoman. As she pointed out some of the equipment he would need, Dravite turned his eye on the ring attached to the length of string used to feed the birds, had she called it a Jesse? "I'd love to see it in action," he admitted, "or even give it a go."

It seemed the perfect opportunity might soon present itself for Ife had offered to show him some of the younger birds, including her baby falcon, Food. If he did not answered quick enough with his words, it would seem his smile had already spoken for him, "I would love to meet the famous little chick," the horse lord smirked and followed where Ife led, sad to say goodbye to the hawk. Dravite had already decided that he could possibly be convinced to take one of them home today, and maybe even a small falcon chick to raise while he worked with an adult hawk to hone his non existent bird handling skills.

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[Ife]

"In that case," Ife proffered, signing to Dravite to follow me. "Let's go see the chicks, whilst these birds digest their lunch, and after that I can show you the adults doing what they do best?"

The tent Ife guided Dravite into was quite different to the one in which she had prepared the birds' earlier meal. Instead of a selection of meat and game stored, the skin-lined walls of the tent were lined with cages, of various sizes but all swathed with soft material inside. Some were also covered with blankets of skin or leather, to block out the sunlight that otherwise leaked into the pavilion.

The oldest chicks were first in the row of cages: six pairs of beady black eyes watched Ife and her companion as they walked into the tent. The largest chick was, unsurprisingly, the young of the largest bird from outside: an Eagle fledgling. The bird was almost an exact miniature copy of his parents, save for the odd explosion white downy feathers that erupted from his otherwise golden-brown plumage. As the eaglet bumbled over across his nest of leather, skins and grasses, it also became evident that he lacked the grace and coordination of his parents. "The nursery." Ife declared with another smile on her face. Directing her gestures and attention to the cages, and explained: "We tend to raise all our chicks, as the mortality rate is quite high otherwise. Especially in the eagles -- the breeding pair is getting old now, hence why this chick was born so late into the year." As she hesitated at the cage of the eaglet, the chick gazed up at her with something close to adoration. And then he opened his beak.

And squealed.

And squealed.

The sound was something akin to a baby crying, or a piglet being slaughtered in a most inhumane way. Regardless, the sound stirred the rest of the baby birds that shared the eaglet's tent home, and soon enough the entire pavilion had erupted in a cloud of squalling, demanding babies to be fed. Despite the ear-piercing volume and pitch of their cries, it was all music to Ife's ears. The smile on her lips was unmoveable: she simply loved being the nest mother to all these demanding chicks.

"Come on then, daddy." Now she turned to Dravite, her right eyebrow quirking upwards in a playful, almost suggestive, manner. "You're not going to be able to see the goods without pulling your weight."

Though her offer no doubt would sound suspicious to anyone eavesdropping, within the tent Ife now offered Dravite a pair of overgrown tweezers: two pieces of wood that were nailed together at one end. "You can use these to pick up a piece of meat. Then hold it above the chick and they'll take it from you." She gestured to a wicker basket loaded with portions of meat, freshly deposited by Faren earlier that morning. "They might look adorable, but most of these little buggers would still try and take your finger off... So I wouldn't suggest trying to snuggle up with them."

[Dravite]

One bird was enough to see the man step back and raise an eyebrow in mild amusement but when the whole tent sang together demandingly, Dravite put a finger in each ear and laughed. Some of the birds stopped to listen to the strange sound, assuming danger was nearby, while others, too young, dumb, or oblivious, sang on. When Ife called him daddy he smirked; this girl had a sense of humour he found entertaining. She set him up with the right tools and hesitantly, he got to work, glancing back at her before feeding the first couple of chicks as if to say 'like this?'.

They wolfed the food down so quickly he soon started to wonder which chicks he had feed and which still required a piece of meat; thankfully, mother hen Ife seemed to be onto it and had a few tricks for remembering what was what. Feeding all of them proved work indeed and by the time they had managed to feed every one of the birds, Dravite wondered if they would quiet down, for the odd one still squealed away which would course the next one to start up again and so it went on. He handed the wooden tweezers back to Ife and looked around, "which one is yours?"

It was difficult to tell the young falcons from the hawks and the more Dravite considered it, the more comfortable he felt with his plan for taking one home. When he met Ife's chick, Food, of course he was sold. The horse lord smiled slowly, he could see now why Ife had made mention of the small bird last night and why her eyes lit up the way they did whenever she spoke about him. The chick was nothing but a fat little ball of white fluff with a sharp beak and big, knowing eyes, as if someone had promised him the sky one day and he just had to grow big enough to learn to fly before it was all his, "you know he reminds me of my Strider," Dravite laughed and recalled how demanding and entitled the buckskin had been as a foal.

"I'd like a chick like him, same age if you have any?" He would know where to go for help that way and whether or not he was feeding the chick up too much, seen as Ife would be in the same boat, "and I was thinking of taking an adult hawk also, a little project to get me started and help me learn the ropes," he figured Ife would advise him against any bad decisions regarding his choice and if she had a better idea he was more than willing to hear her out, "what do you think, mum? I'd need you to show me the basics before I leave today; you don't want me back first thing tomorrow trying to return them," he smiled, knowing that would never be the case, Dravite was a persistent man who didn't give up easily, especially when it came to training animals.

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[Ife]

Ife's pride at showing off her falcon chick was comically obvious. Her smile was wide, her eyes bright. Food may have looked nothing more than a bundle of downy feathers, but to his Inartan nest mother, his potential was limitless. As soon as she uncovered his cage - set aside from the rest - he started calling out for his lunch, his black eyes set steadily on Ife's freckled face. "He's handsome, isn't he?" She asked. The question itself was innocent, but like any mother blinded by love, Ife's tone left little room for argument or disagreement. Whether Dravite appreciated it or not, Food was a marvel to her. The horse lord’s comparison between Food and his own strider earned an even broader smile from Ife. "He's smart, for sure." She declared, nodding firmly.

She continued to feed the chicks, offering each eaglet or eyas a tiny morsel of meat skewered onto a stick. Every so often Ife would glance to Dravite, inspecting his own feeding technique and either praising him or suggesting that he alter the angle or height of his offering. "You won't regret buying a bird, I promise you." She said sagely, but Ife withheld the grim details of cleaning up bird muck, or how the slightest change in diet could drastically alter the consistency of said mess. "And yes, we have another falcon chick. It's actually Food's nest sister, so you'll be the owner of the second best falcon in Endrykas." A playful smile accompanied this statement.

After the feeding was done, Ife lead Dravite back outside to the row of adult birds. As before, she equipped them both with falconry gloves. "The birds are trained to fly, kill and retrieve on whistles." She explained, jerking her head downwards to indicate to the whistle that hung around her neck. "Each bird has a different whistle to avoid confusion, but they all use the same format: one blow for flight, two short whistles to kill and two long to retrieve." For clarity, Ife demonstrated each of these by blowing lowly on the whistle. "You can change these though, if you prefer something else. If you wanted to use verbal commands, for example, you'd have to use the whistles and commands together until the bird responds to just the commands alone." It was the basics of animal training, and Ife did not want to patronise the male's knowledge, of which she was sure that Dravite had plenty.

With a harrier hawk on her arm, Ife continued to walk with Dravite away from the pavilion. When she stopped at yet another collection of three small cages, she explained: "for the advanced stages of training, and for demonstrations like this, we use live bait." It was the grim reality of falconry training; the Inarta had long since accepted that fact. She picked up one of the larger of the cages and continued onwards until they reached another clearing. "If you take this--" She shifted the hawk from her glove and onto to Dravite's, "--and this--" now Ife removed the whistle and looped it around his neck, "--and ignore the gross issue of swapping spit with me, I'll let you do the demonstrating. Call it a free lesson."

She turned around and marched away from Dravite and the bird, still carrying the cage containing the mystery live bait. After walking a short distance away, she placed the cage down carefully and called out, "On my signal, blow the whistle to take flight." Ife hoped that Dravite would realise that it was the bird on his arm that was expected to fly, and not the Drykas male himself, though she couldn't help but smirk as she imagined his temporary confusion. "When she's in the air, blow two short whistles to kill and two long for her to retrieve. Then the rest is up to that fine female on your arm."

After her instructions were given, Ife allowed a brief silence to follow before finally signing with her hands fly now. Once the hawk was up in the air, she would open the front of the wicker cage at her feet and spill out two young rabbits. The first of the bait remained shyly beside Ife's feet, as if the kit itself knew that there was danger above. But the second dashed away, hopping quickly from Ife and towards the hawk, which was circling above them all.

"Blow now!"

[Dravite]

"Stunning," Dravite played along, finding it difficult to see any beauty in the fat little white ball of fluff sat in front of him, though his smile made no mention of this; cunning, natural, honest. When there came mention of a sister, Dravite’s little grin morphed into a menacing but playful smirk, "second best bird in the city, huh? Sounds like my kind of girl."

Ife moved on with her lesson and Dravite did his best not to get in the way, she was well practiced when it came to birds, of that he could be sure, but her teaching style seemed to run ahead of her and the man, as intelligent as he liked to think that he was, found himself struggling to keep up. He counted on his fingers, one whistle for fly, two short and sharp for kill, and two long for retrieve. While he thought over the basics, the watchman remained quiet, though he did manage a smile at the mention of sharing spit, "I'm sure as long as you haven't been kissing all of your admirers I'll be just fine," he winked and took up his place with bird and whistle at the ready.

The horse lord suddenly felt akin to the small rabbits trapped in that cage, what if he screwed up the lesson and lost the bird? No, he scolded himself mentally, this bird is a trained professional, all you have to do is blow a whistle, how hard could that be? "Now!" Ife called as she set the prey free and a small rabbit darted from the confines of the cage to race across the field.

Dravite raised the whistle to his lips and blew once to tell the hawk to take flight, raising his arm slightly as the bird pushed off and sailed up towards the sky. He saw the creature glance down at the fleeing rabbit and gave another blow of the whistle, two in fact, both short and sharp, just as Ife had instructed. The watchman was hesitant then as the hawk remained in the sky, had it not heard the whistle, or should kill and retrieve be ordered in unison? He glanced at Ife for some kind of reassurance just as the hawk decided to dive, plunging back down towards the earth at a speed Dravite wasn't sure it would recover from in time not to break its own neck. He flinched as the hawk took the rabbit and managed to stop itself just in time before it might have slammed into the ground and become nothing but a pile of loosed feathers.

Having completely forgotten the last command with all the excitement, Dravite ran towards the bird to see whether or not it had been successful in making the kill. He covered ground quickly but slowed before getting too close, not wanting to intimidate the bird. The hawk screeched at him and opened its wings as if to say 'back off, I killed this one fair and square,' before ducking its head to pull more of the rabbit’s fur out while it was still warm. "Wow," the horse lord laughed, "now that is what I call beautiful."

Before Ife could reprimand the bird or her disobedient student, Faren stepped out of the tent from behind her and moved to stand by her side, "A lesson? Then I assume you've made a successful sale?" He smiled, though unlike the watchman, the businessman that Faren was failed to inject any kind of warmth into his grin. After he managed to pry some of the facts from Ife, he extended the same smile to Dravite, who slowly approached, with the hawk on one arm and a mangled rabbit in the opposite hand. "I hear you're considering taking home a falcon?"
"And one of these," Dravite gestured to the hawk, "what an awesome little animal," he was grinning from ear to ear, completely sold."
"Most of our available falcons are only chicks," Faren waved towards the tent, "might I suggest you take a hawk and one of our summer eagles?"
"Summer eagles?"
"Yes they were hatched this summer gone; they'll be almost flying by winter."
"Oh I don't know about that," Dravite shook his head; he knew he wasn't ready for an eagle.
The salesman grinned, "nonsense, you have plenty of time to train up a hawk before the eagle will be ready, and by the time you do decide you want an eagle, it will cost you five times the price because they'll be all grown up."
Dravite looked at Ife momentarily before casting his gaze on Faren again, "all right," he agreed with a nod, "you're the expert."
"Excellent," the man smiled, "Ife," he looked at her and smirked as if to say 'that's how you close a deal,' before turning to head back to front of shop.

Dravite seemed a little confused by the whole thing and blinked out of his stupor as the hawk bound between them, returning to Ife's arm. He looked down and saw the small, petrified rabbit at Ife's feet before crouching down to snatch it up and return it to the cage, "you live to die another day my friend," the watchman smiled softly and closed it away in its crate. "An adult hawk and an eagle chick," the man nodded slowly, "I guess I'll have to pass on the second best falcon in the city this time as my current funds barely allow for the other two," he admitted playfully, "ah well, that’s one way to eliminate the competition," he teased, "you might as well set me up with a glove, stand, a couple of hoods, and that jess while you're at it."

There came a pause and Dravite smiled his silent thanks to Ife, it had been good of her to go to all the trouble she had this morning, "I'm sure this won't be the last we'll see of each other and come spring you'll know just where to find me, all you’ll have to do is follow the troublesome talk of the man who can't control his eagle," he laughed.

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