Next evening, I was perched again on that same branch, peering through the driving rain at the bones scattered just outside her door. All, from the largest to the smallest had been thoroughly gnawed, then cracked for the marrow. Damn, she must've been hungry! I sat there for a moment, considering, then shrugged my wings. Well, they're easy to catch. . . .
. . . .And about an hour later another steer thumped to the ground just outside her lair.
I kept this up for a week or so; dropping food to her once a night until the bones didn't look quite so carefully picked over, then I slowed to once every other night. After awhile I decided to sneak in for another peek.
She looked a lot better now as she coiled protectively about her eggs; her golden eyes were no longer quite as sunken, and had lost a feverish gleam I hadn't noticed until it was gone. She was still quite gaunt, but the skin no longer stretched over her ribs like a drumhead.
I allowed myself a small smile of satisfaction as I crept back out, then went to get her this evening's steer. This time, though, when it thunked to the ground just outside and she went to get it, she found me sitting on the far side of the clearing.
She eyed me for several long moments, then hissed at me warningly. No more than that; my scent had been all over those cattle. I watched silently as she dragged her meal within, then listened to her eating for a while before heading for home.
Why was I doing this? I wondered to myself. Just what the hell did I see in this creature that compelled such effort? Well, things had been awfully slow around the shop lately, and I suppose it was something to do. . . .
After several more visits she had relaxed to the point that I could land and drop my latest offering at her door. I still had to back off a little before she would come out, but at least she would eat out in the open now, where I could watch her.
I figured she was getting close to her proper weight by now, and her green plumage was picking up a rich, glossy sheen. Her ribs didn't show all that much anymore, and I found it strangely pleasurable to watch the muscles ripple under her hide as she worried at the carcass. She smelled rather nice, too. . . .
I blinked, then shook my head. The feathered serpent's golden eyes glinted as she looked up at my sudden movement, studied me for several long moments before going back to her meal. What in the devil was I just thinking about? Was I actually...? Damn. I had to get out of here...
The crested head came up again as I spread my wings and sprang aloft, her reptilian features unreadable as she watched me disappear over the treetops.
"What'cha drawing?"
"Hmm?" I looked up to see Nancy, the NCO Club hostess looking over my shoulder at what I'd been doodling on the paper tablecloth with one of the supplied crayons. "Oh! Um, it's a snake."
She frowned, looking at the crude drawing. "A green snake? Oh. One of those troublesome garden snakes."
"Uh, yeah."
She sniffed disapprovingly at my sketch. "Ya'know, I came across one of those little brutes in our back yard, back during the last dry season, ya'know? Had Animal Control come out and kill it."
A small shudder rippled through me, and I tuned her out as she chattered on, nodding at what seemed to be the right intervals until she finally left. The club's pianist plunked away in the background as I stared down at the sinuous shape drawn on the brown paper. Bemusedly I picked the crayon up again and added the four short legs, then a botched attempt at the wings.
Why was I doing this? And why in the hell can't I stop thinking about that blasted creature? I was really beginning to wonder if there was something wrong with me. . . .
The next evening found me winging my way once again to her nest, a freshly-killed steer in my jaws. Somehow, I hadn't quite gotten around to feeding myself in almost a week now, and the steer's blood leaking down my throat was making me drool uncontrollably. Annoyed, I doubled my neck back to wipe away some of the spittle, but only succeeded in smearing it around. Perhaps I'd better get myself something to eat after this trip.
The sky was clear tonight, but the ruckus being raised up ahead made sure that I heard the clearing long before I could see it. What in the world? I cleared the treetops and found a massive, green-feathered shape coiled in front of the burrow. One look at the huge wings and serpent-like body told me that the female's mate had finally returned.
I banked and began to circle, gaining altitude. Well, now somebody else could do the hunting. Guess she won't be needing me anymore . . . and why did that bother me so much? And why in the hell are they making so much noise?
I craned my neck, studying the scene below. The male was making loud snarling noises and short lunges at the entrance. The female was backed into the cave with only her head showing and shrieking at him defiantly. Her plumage was fluffed aggressively, but even from here I could tell she was trembling violently.
Suddenly it hit me, why the female wasn't willing to leave her eggs long enough to hunt, why she had attacked me, a male, with such ferocity.
My God, he's after the eggs....!