Prey

“Reet, reet.” I nervously squeaked, as I swung my bushy tail. The bright and warm sunlight burned against my fuzzy back. I scampered silently across the wild plains, searching for any immediate danger, when suddenly a sharp, stabbing pain raced just upon my furry hindquarters. I almost blacked out with the agony in my back legs worsening a thousand times, and I barely noticed when my altitude increased and I began to fly…

“Wait,” I thought silently to myself. “I’m not flying… I can only glide, for that matter so…”

“SQUEAK!” I screamed, flailing wildly before noticing that large, shiny talons had dug in and ruptured my fur, and into my skin underneath. The golden eagle above me gave a cry of delight, which echoed so loudly throughout the valley, it left me breathless and half-deaf and shocked.

I felt the eagle’s momentum-a series of the beating of wings; but then I was jolted back to the present when we shockingly started to descend rapidly, like riding a river that was sloped diagonally, leading to a glazed waterfall. Just as I thought I was going to be sick with fear, my ride smoothed out into horizontal flaps, until I was only feeling relaxed but nervous as we gradually leveled out into a swoop.

“Alright, you cheeky and delicious looking squirrel, now you aren’t going anywhere.” I heard a high-pitched feminine voice call above me. My eyes widened. “S-so this i-is b-bad?!” I whispered, gasping frantically and flailing my stubby arms and legs in an impossible attempt to escape and outwit the eagle who had captured me for lunch. But then, I realised I was a ‘flying’ squirrel! (A really stupid flying squirrel, who was apparently on grass plains instead of trees)

“The eagle hasn’t noticed that though.” I felt relieved.

Suddenly enormous, lush green mountains came into view, and also the sound of very hungry eaglets. ” About time you’re served for my lunch!” The eagle snarled. I felt my rib cage and arm muscles click into action. WHOOM!

I started free-falling into the peaceful valley below, making a mess of myself-frantically making chicken flapping movements that certainly did not help. Finally, the small part of my brain that wasn’t engulfed in panic sent vibrating thoughts to my muscles, and they responded.

My arm’s skin flaps stiffly caught the wind that was howling in my ears, and I glided unsteadily still shaking and panicky. As I glided safely towards the big and ferocious-looking oak tree in front, I heard an angry and shrill eagle’s cry projecting an echo throughout the valley again.

 

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