The Hatchling by Kathryn Lasky

Author:Kathryn Lasky
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Action & Adventure - General, Animals, Animals - Birds, Action & Adventure, Fantasy, Juvenile Fiction, Children: Grades 4-6, General, Juvenile Science Fiction, Science Fiction, Fantasy & Magic, Magic, Birds
ISBN: 9781439520697
Publisher: Paw Prints
Published: 2008-09-15T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Pieces of Me!

Nyroc peeked out of the fox’s den to scan the sky for a sign of Phillip. He had arrived a good time before and had expected Phillip by now. But there was not a speck in the sky. Well, he supposed he should consider this lucky. There was no sign of Phillip—then again, no sign of the posse. But what if the posse had caught Phillip? That was a scary thought. Nyroc turned to walk deeper into the shadows of the den. He yarped a pellet, picked it up, and walked farther into the den to scratch out a place to bury it.

As he was digging with his talons, he felt something odd drop from his tail. He wheeled around and saw a feather, one of his undertail coverts, lying on the ground. “Great Glaux! What’s happening to me?” He stared in a mixture of dismay and horror. Another smaller covert slipped lazily to the ground. He began to tremble uncontrollably and moan. His gizzard shuddered and grew squishy.

“What in Glaux’s name is going on in here?” Phillip said as he flew into the den.

“Phillip! I’m so glad you’re here.”

“What is wrong?”

Nyroc straightened up and tried to look brave. He gulped and then blinked several times. “Phillip, I hate to tell you this but…but I think I am dying.”

“Dying? What are you talking about? You look perfectly healthy to me.”

Nyroc nodded toward his feet and then bent down and picked up one of the feathers. “How do you explain this, Phillip?”

“Explain it? What’s to explain? You’re molting, that’s all.”

“Molting?”

Phillip sighed deeply. “Hasn’t that idiot mother of yours told you about molting?”

“No.”

“First of all, it’s natural.”

“You mean I’m not ill? I’m not going to die?”

“Not from molting. Sorry to disappoint you. Molting is a sign of maturity. When you were a very young hatchling, your first fluffy down fell off and you were pretty unsightly. We had a First Molting ceremony, don’t you remember?”

“Maybe I kind of remember. But what’s this?” Nyroc waved the feather in front of Phillip. “This isn’t down. This is an important flight feather. An undertail covert. Lose too many of those and how will I rudder, or make a decent turn?”

“When feathers get old and worn you shed them. Another feather will be coming in a short time.”

“When?”

“Don’t be so impatient, Nyroc.”

“I wouldn’t be if I weren’t being chased by my own mum, her best tracker, and her fiercest lieutenants. I need all the feathers I have.”

“It’ll be a few days.” Phillip paused and a worried shadow fell across his eyes.

“What is it?” Nyroc was quick to detect even the subtlest emotions in his friend.

“We’re going to have to bury these feathers like we buried the pellets. We don’t want them able to track us through your feathers.”

“Oh, Glaux! I never thought of that.” Nyroc began trembling all over again.

“Let me check you to see if any others are missing.”

Phillip crowded close to Nyroc and with the special edge on his middle talon began combing through the feathers.

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