In the burning forest

Connie

"Are you sure they're edible?" Connie stared at the white and gold berries in front of him. He picked one that was bigger than the others, hoping it was ripe and not poisonous.

I've seen animals like you gather them, the red bird replied.

By animals, the bird meant human-like creatures. With a head, two hands, and two legs and could stand on two feet. For all Connie knew, they were monkeys. "How often?"

Often as a full moon, it cawed, turning its beak at the sky where a pale half moon was still visible despite the daylight. Another moon shaped more irreguarly could be seen at the opposite side.

Connie huffed, "Then they weren't gathering it for food!"

Why else would they gather them?

"For other things. To poison someone maybe or a bird. You won't understand." Connie tossed the berry away. Already, his palm showed a slightly pinkish complexion on the part where the fruit made contact with his skin. More importantly, it was getting itchy.

"Look what you've done!" He flashed his palm at his companion.

I didn't do anything.

"You showed it to me!"

But I did not tell you to touch it.

"My god, you were telling me to eat it," he gritted his teeth, scratching at the itch.

Oh, good thing you did not. You would have been dead. And it will not be good for the both of us.

Helpless, Connie pushed himself forward to get a good view of the forest, his lifeless legs nothing but deadweight behind him. The canopy burned in shades of red and yellow. It was as though the trees were afire. He wondered if these trees changed with the seasons. Seeing that this was natural red bird territory - perfect for camouflage - it was probable that they were always blazing in these colors the whole year-round.

"You sure there are animals exactly like me?"

Yes. But they do not crawl.

Connie had to suspect whether the red bird's insensitivity was due to the fact that it had a small brain or could it be that it was intentionally annoying him? "Take me to their farm."

The bird cocked its head, unsure.

"You know those pieces of land where..." How do you describe a farm to a bird? "where plants grow in perfect lines."

The bird cried an affirmative. Because he could not ride on its back, it picked up Connie by the shoulders.

"Ouch! Ouch," he winced. Its talons were gripping him a little too tightly, sharp ends digging into his flesh. "Put me down!"

The bird let go of him, his body already several feet from the ground. He hit turf with a thud. He was not as hurt now as he was last night. He sustained bruises and cuts from before. He would never forgive this bird. His injuries aside though, he still cursed this winged monster to death. What it did to Princess was beyond forgivable. He promised himself early on that he would never forget. Not until his last breath.

The bird was merely an instrument. A way to survive. As long as he needed this bird, he could not lay a hand to it. But soon as it is no more indispensable, he would exact his justice.

"Let's try riding," he declared.

To do so, the red bird had to lie down completely while Connie pulled himself up on its back. It was rigoroues work, considering that the bird's plumage was so smooth that he slid down during the first tries.The red bird was still, as it watched him. The sharp slope of its body did not allow him to easily climb up with nothing but his hands to support him and hoist him up. He nearly made it. "Ahhg, No!" He had his chest up on it, but with his legs just dangling, his body swung and slid off. He thrashed his hand for purchase but the feathers were not made to be clung onto. They were made in such a way that air would just happily brush by.

Too bad for Connie.

He was like a toddler trying to climb on a wooden pony.

If the red bird were just a foot less tall when lying down, he could have been flying away now, instead of having to crawl back to it. Life was too cruel. Even here. He was being reminded again of his disability.

He tried once more. And this time, he made sure to grip on tight. The bird cawed in pain as he tugged at its feathers. "Shut up," Connie blurted out, sighing.

He made sure to have slung his entire body over the bird's back before adjusting his position with utmost care. At last, he was comfortably on top of it.

"Come on."

The bird stood, bent its knees and sprang for the air, wings beating loudly. They broke through the canopy and made for higher altitude.

Connie had never ridden in a plane before. He wondered if it was like this,: his stomach flipping in on itself, his feet and palms tingly all of a sudden.

Surprisingly, he was not afraid. Well, he was for a second or two but he began to revel in it. He was off the ground and he felt like nothing bounded him to it - not even his unfeeling feet.

It was its own kind of freedom by itself.

He liked the wind rushing past him, the clouds only at arm's reach, the ground hundreds of feet beneath him. He craned his head and hollered in ecstacy.

"Hooooo!" It was the best feeling he had ever had.

He was astonished to find a city jutting from the horizon. This planet was not as primitive as he had previously thought. They spotted a farm after a few minutes. Connie could tell because of the contours, and the lines by which they grew.

Suddenly the brid yawed left.

"Why are we not making for the farm?"

Your kind hunts us. We will be shot down. The forest is a safer place to dismount, the bird explained.

The bird softly descended. It walked him to the edge of the forest. Dismounting was a much easier feat.

Don't take too long, it told him.

He then crawled for the vegetable-looking plants.

He was in luck. No one was going around, no guard dogs running about, no fences.

The leaves were light green in color, dotted with holes that looked natural - not eaten away by pests. It was easy to pluck them off. Since they did not bear any fruits, Connie deduced they were grown for their leaves. He took a bite and found it to taste sweet. It could have been sprayed with sugar. He stuffed some in his pocket for later.

He tended to the tomatoes next. They looked like tomatoes - red and plump, except that they had scales. He was not very confident whether to peel the scales off first. He peeled them off to be sure. The flesh emitted a rather foul odor making him question if it was raw or over-ripe. It looked juicy. He munched it. It tasted like the tofu Sister Maricelle used to cook. Not bad. He gathered more.

He was basically stealing. He might not have a clue of how rules worked in this world but he was pretty sure stealing vegetables was not very much encouraged. It was thrilling.

Until he heard the approaching little footsteps accompanied by a soft hushing and the ding ding of a bell.

Was it an animal or a person? He didn't know which was better.

Fortunately for him, the plants were tall enough to cover him. Soundlessly, he crawled to the end of the line where he hid, heart thumping. The soft footsteps loudened. He peeked and saw a snakelike silhouette turning into the row where he picked the tomato.

When it came nearer, he saw that it was not a snake at all. Yes, it had a slender body but it had fur and three pairs of legs - its forelegs were smaller and spindly whereas its two pairs of hindlegs were bulky and long. It stood on its four hindlegs while its tail - which was three-quarters of its total length waggled behind it in slow motion. It had a snout that sniffed at the the air and at the soil where he sat just a moment ago.

It let out a hushing growl. It was loud enough to be heard across the field. Someone said, "Mur, yu mik jo?"

Then the creature turned to the lines he had left on the soil when he dragged himself. It followed it, sniffing, its ears pricking up at the air. It was menacing the way it waved its tail. It seemed so much smarter than it looked.

It seemed to be prancing, alert. It was merely feet away now.

"Mur? Mur?" Its owner called.

Connie had to do something. He grabbed a fruit from his loot, peeled it and threw it meters away from him.

The creature with its keen sense of smell turned its head towards the tomato. Connie had his odor and the bird's with him. It was a good thing the fruit had a wretched aroma, overpowering everything else.

He started to push himself towards the forest, fast like his life depended on it. Leaves and fruits fell off in his wake.

To his terror, however, the creature came back to tracking him when he was but halfway. And this time, he did not have a plant to hide behind. The creature had a clear view of him. It growled, tail straightening out behind it. It broke into a run, giving chase.

Connie knew panic could do nothing to save him. He needed to be calm. But seeing the vermin close the gap between them faster than he could crawl, he feared he was having a heart attack. His heartbeat raced like crazy!

He clawed at the dirt fiercely for purchase and not succedeed. "BIRRRD!" He yelled at the top of his lungs even if the people would hear. "BIRD!"

A couple of feet to being caught, the red bird dashed into the scene. Faced with a much bigger adversary, the little creature cowered instantly.

Connie was almost relieved; but suddenly, BANG a gunshot sounded.

The bark of the tree just behind the red bird exploded. Near miss. It was taller than the plants, it cannot hide from the view of the farmhouse.

"Come on!" Connie shouted.

The bird understood at once. It grabbed him by the chest and flapped to the air when another shot pierced the air. They were moving now and it would be harder to take aim. That put him at ease.

You hungry still? The bird asked, mockingly, as they took refuge in the safety of the burning forest. Somehow it had the comprehension of a bird but the sarcasm of a human being.

Just as Connie leaned against a tree, letting his muscles relax, a figure came out of the shadows. The red bird pricked its ears up alert.

"Ratu goye!" The figure said, sounding feminine to Connie's ears. The woman, who was riding om some kind of a raptor-like creature the size of a horse, held up a large bow, taking aim directly at the bird. Behind her, a man followed and stepped up, holding a dead antelope in one hand and a brown bag in the other.

Their skin was pale as moonlight, their hair the sheen of silver. More amazingly, the woman's eyes were a gray storm.

Sensing their intent to kill, Connie could only shout, "Please, we bring no harm!"

His words brought out a new expression on her face, appearing to possibly understand him. But how could she? Connie was basically an alien.

"Buji sol, Piln," she seemed to order the man behind her. Her companion dropped the antelope and started doing some gestures with his hand.

Recognizing this threat, the red bird that was watching intently charged for the strangers. But not long after, chains materialized out of thin air, growing from the man's clasped hand. He brandished and coiled it around the charging bird's body and legs, eventually felling it. The chains radiated a bright brilliance as though they were made of light itself.

The pressing matter though was that the bird was down. There was nothing between him and these hunters.

Before Connie could react or scamper out of the scene, the woman rushed up to his side, its raptor galloping on four quiet hooves.

"You are from Earth?" She spoke English. She just spoke English. Connie could not believe it. "You are safe now."

His mind spun. She clearly misunderstood the situation.