Arlen was crouched on a branch, his violet eyes intensely scanning the foliage for his target. He was precariously perched, one foot balanced on the branch, his right arm hanging onto the trunk, and gravity threatening to yank him off his branch. He was relaxed but tense, (the kind of tense like a coiled spring ready to release all of its energy).
Suddenly, movement from behind him. He whirled around, ready to pounce, but it was just his sister, Aranwyn, who landed on the tree branch next to him.
"Aranwyn!" He protested, then looked around, before lowering his voice to a whisper.
"You're scaring away the prey," he tried to look angry but failed miserably.
Aranwyn folded her arms, ruefully looking at her brother.
"I sincerely hate to be the bearer of bad news...but it's the village chief. He wants to see you. I think," and she scowled, "it has to do with his son, Malequinon."
Arlen's face paled, the hunt forgotten.
"Thanks sis. I guess I better go, then. Tell mother that supper will be later than usual."
He tried to put on a front like everything was fine. He didn't want to worry Aranwyn, or his mother. His mother was older, and ever since his dad had died it was Arlen's job to provide for his family. He didn't see it as a job, it just came naturally to him. He loved his family.
Aranwyn unfurled her wings and prepared to leave.
"I'll see you at supper then?"
Arlen nodded.
"See you at supper."
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The village tribal council was a mess, the council angrily arguing amongst themselves.
The door opened, and the room fell silent.
The chief, Eldriquion, was a figure that commanded respect.
He walked in, holding some black feathers, and sat down at the head of the council.
"We all know why we're gathered here, yes?" His deep voice boomed out across the council.
"Well, we do but it doesn't feel right," one of the oldest members cautioned.
"It's been a week since the competition. Arlen won fair and square. The murder wasn't even brought up until two days ago, and we're supposed to reach a conclusion on a viable suspect?"
The other council members agreed, causing a din to fall upon the room.
Eldriquion stood up.
"Silence!" He roared angrily. He held up black feathers.
"These were found on the body, by my dear son. Now, who in this village has black feathers? Only one man: Arlen. Is that evidence enough for you?"
The council consulted among themselves, some reluctantly agreeing, other only agreeing because of the chief. But two refused, insisting there wasn't enough to convict a man to death.
Eldriquion bribed the council.
Finally, a resolution was reached. The council ended up traditionally passing the punishment of execution upon Arlen. The chief ordered it to be reduced to exile.
The vote was passed.
And that's where we find ourselves, a confused and angry Arlen being read his punishment by an indifferent council. He was so shocked by it all he had no words.
Arlen was flanked by two guards. He was struggling to keep his composure. It all didn't make sense. He knew Malequinion hated him, but this much?
The guards tied him up and threw him in an old rowboat some fisherman had abandoned.
"This is practically murder!" Arlen angrily yelled, finally finding some semblance of protest.
The guards pushed the rowboat, sending it out to sea
With the way he was tied up, he couldn't even use his wings.
There was no food on the boat...no water...no spare clothes. He was, for all anybody else knew, dead.
He thought about his family. They don't know where he is. They thought he was out hunting.
He could feel tears running down his face. He cried until he had no more tears left.
A week passed.
Then two weeks passed.
Arlen survived by managing to catch some rainwater when it would storm.
He was in a lot of pain, his stomach cramping from no food, his lips dry and cracked from a lack of sufficient amount of water.
His muscles cramped and ached, any small movement causing him to cry out in pain.
He was stuck, lying at the bottom of the small rowboat, weak and hurting.
The boat bumped into something with a loud grating noise.
The boat stopped rocking.
Arlen summmoned the last of his strength, managing somehow to get up and fall facefirst onto the beach with an agonized cry.