Raiha very vastly appreciated the changing weather. Riverfall’s springtime weather was unpredictable at best – when it might have been blue skies and sunshine when the sun rose could turn into blackened clouds and pouring rain in the space of a few chimes. Raiha liked the rain – she just did not care for having gotten all set up outside and down to work, or flying Uzima, or going looking for plants with Asim to be caught in a downpour so strong it was almost impossible to stand up on two feet in. One such sudden storm had brought the goshawk crashing down and bruised her quite a bit from the force of the fall. The Akontak had not been amused.
Still, Diallo had brought her a groundhog from Goddess knew where, and that had been enough, that one sign of trouble, to make sure that Raiha flew Uzima on a daily basis, so long as the weather held out, looking for the troublesome. She didn’t care if Diallo had traveled a day to find the damned thing and bring it back. Groundhogs had a way of infiltrating the perimeter that Raiha didn’t approve of, and the little rotters were back with a vengeance now that spring had sprung. That meant that war had been declared. The first victim… casualty… enemy… had been offered to Myri. If the Goddess found the death of a groundhog insulting, Raiha was unmoved. In every war, there was an enemy, and her enemy, right now, and for the next three seasons, would be groundhogs. Surely, that was good enough.
Still, the sun was out, and there was no time to waste. She scooped up her leather gauntlets, pulling them on, and attaching the hunting knife to her belt. She wasn’t bothering with the leash and jesses and hood, not that she usually did with Uzima any more. She and the goshawk had had three years together. They knew each other and they worked well together. The bird saw the gauntlets, though, and let out a trilling kuk-kuk-kuk, going from her lower perch near the water bowl on the ground to the one closest to the door, her wings slightly extended, almost trembling. It was the goshawk’s equivalent of fidgeting with anticipation as Raiha opened the flight door and offered Uzima her hand. She stepped up, and she deftly withdrew the eager bird from the flight.
She stuck her head out of the mews before leaving the door open, at least for now – she liked leaving it open, if only because Diallo and Asim came and went, and she liked to air the place out beyond playing with the windows. She trotted down the steps to the ground, taking them two at a time with her long legs, her thick white hair tied in a deliberately sloppy bun at the nape of her neck, the spiky ends of it sticking out in all directions. She wore her leather trousers, belt, and boots, but a sleeveless black cotton shirt left her blue arms bare but for the gloves that she wore, and she headed for the pasture as Uzima gripped the gauntlet and flapped hard. She wasn’t trying to take off just yet – but she was excited to get going, Raiha could tell, and the falconer was more than happy to oblige as she easily climbed over the wooden rails and into the paddocks, making her way through the horses. Diallo, sunning himself in the grass, followed her, getting through the Most of them accepted her as a fixture in the pasture, with the exception of some of the new foals, but Raiha didn’t mind. Right now, her world was wrapped up in the eager, hungry bird on her glove.
She lifted lowered her arm slightly. “Fly,” she told the goshawk, boosting her into the sky. The bird took off, flying overhead, winging about silently as she circled on the thermal updrafts while Diallo sniffed around, neatly avoiding protective mares who may have disapproved of his presence. He was commonplace there – they were used to his presence. A dog as big as Diallo helped with desensitizing the horses. He knew when to approach and when to keep his distance, so when a foal was sold, they were a little less likely to panic when they were exposed to other animals. This was old hat for the three of them, as Diallo started barking near the fence line, though he didn't pursue. Uzima dove, in contrast perfectly silent as she always was on the hunt, and lit into whatever it was on the ground that she gave chase to. Her wings were splayed as her feet crushed its neck, and Raiha made her way over to see just what prize the two of them had gotten as Diallo went back to work. Aha. One mole down, however many more it took to go.
As Uzima took to the skies again, Raiha grinned, putting the mole in a bag. They were off to a good start.
