Whirlwind surveyed her handiwork from her perch. She clicked her talons together with mild satisfaction. Her older sisters had really important jobs, ones that took weeks to prepare and lasted for days. She was a little too young yet, they said.
Personally, she figured a century and a half was plenty old enough to join in on the fun. But she wouldn't even meet her Acu partner for another fifty years, and she needed to work together with them in order to make big storms like her sisters did.
Whirlwind snorted with annoyance. She was plenty strong enough herself! Staring down from the barn's rooftop, she could see a path of devastation her little windstorm had wrought. Branches littered the ground, and even one of the sparking-poles had fallen. Her family would yell at her if they knew she was in the open during the daytime, but the view was so good. The humans were cowering in their home anyways. No harm in peeking just for a bit.
Whirlwind didn't think the word 'home' fit the human dwellings. In her language, the word for it implied that home was mobile, and that it came with an Avi wherever they went. It was what she thought her family to be.
There was always a lot of talking between her siblings, if she listened. A lot of it was really far away, or boring. So much of it was boring, especially between her brothers. They talked about what was going on with humans, mostly. Maybe if she could understand it better, it would be more fun to listen to.
Whirlwind wasn't allowed around the big storms her sisters made, which was a real bummer. Tempest said she would only get in the way. Her oldest sister was kind of mean. She coordinated all of her siblings and the Acu that worked with them, taking orders directly from their deity. Tempest also said she was 'rash', whatever that word meant.
It was probably mean too. Tempest didn't say much nice stuff. She reminded Whirlwind often that both of their jobs were really important. And Whirlwind's job was! She caused a little bit of trouble for the humans wherever she went.
She beamed so bright she showed her fangs. "I knocked down another sparking-pole today," she bragged. She didn't actually use her lips to talk with her family, she sent her messages through the wind. It was their own language that only Avi like her knew.
The wind traveled out of her sense's reach, racing across the world much faster than she could fly. It was her deity's gifts to the Avi. Gale's voice echoed back first, a loving laugh and a "Good job!" Her oldest brother liked to ruffle her short blonde hair when they crossed paths, commenting on how much her horns had grown. They grow really slow, but he always noticed the difference.
A few of her other brothers told her they were proud too, but really, she wanted to hear from her big sisters. Maybe if they realized how great she was at this, they'd pair her up with her Acu sooner!
Tempest sent back an annoyed sound. Whirlwind's smile dropped, and she kicked the little metal chicken off the barn's roof.
Her sisters were probably busy, she told herself, her jealousy growing. They were probably making a huge storm that would knock down a dozen sparking-poles. She would have to do even better to get Tempest's approval.
Beast sounds rose from below her. Her stomach grumbled. Maybe a little snack was in order first. A rabbit maybe, or a squirrel? She wanted something small, because she had just eaten a few days ago.
A gentle wind slid under the barn door and inside. It hissed along until it found the latch. Whirlwind narrowed her eyes in concentration, trying to find out how it was meant to move. After she thought she'd figured it out three separate times, she battered the metal in frustration, shaking it around. Stubborn door.
The door slid loose, opening up hesitantly at first, then with a vigor when a wind coaxed it open. Whirlwind smiled to herself, sticking her tongue out. Though she knew she shouldn't, she scanned the horizon to see if anyone was watching, then gazed at the human dwelling. There was no movement, and she heard no talking from inside.
She jumped down from the roof, her talons crunching on gravel. She strode into the barn, searching for her snack. Her nose wrinkled with distaste at the beasts caged in their own filth. The beasts quieted as they sensed her, skirting as far away as they could.
Whirlwind walked past a horse with leather pinned to its stall. The thought of a meal that big made her sick. A curious wind caressed the lock as she passed.
There was a door on either side, the animals silent behind them. She tapped the door with a talon thoughtfully before clawing through the door near the lock, the ravaged wood giving way as she pushed it open.
Fat pigs cowered in the far corner, just smart enough to know a predator was near. She growled to herself. The beasts were still too big for her to eat by herself.
She turned her attention to the other doorway, giving it the same treatment. Inside were white birds, the heavy, flightless chickens that humans kept as livestock. Could they not hunt their own food?
She sighed, picking the wood chips from the grooves in her claws. A chicken would have to do. The dumb birds carried on with their day like nothing had even happened, an especially stupid one even approaching her to peck at the wood chips.
Whirlwind bent down and grabbed it by the neck, watching the beast struggle in her grip. When it began to flap its wings, she frowned, snapping its neck. She plucked a handful of bloody feathers from it, annoyed. She would spend more time preparing the beast than eating it. She turned on her heel, walking swiftly out of the barn. She left a trail of small white feathers behind her, ripping them out as she walked. Soon, the humans would come out from their hiding.
She stood outside, tapping her foot against the gravel. Her specialty was a little bit of trouble, she thought with a smile, commanding the air to unlatch the horse's door. This time, the metal slid easily from its place.
She spread her golden wings, launching herself into the air. Red blood dropped from her talons as she climbed into the setting sky. Below her, she surveyed her work as beasts tentatively plodded out of the barn. "A little bit of trouble," she practiced in English, her first human tongue. Gale, at the very least, would be proud of her.
She flapped her wings, and with the winds guiding her, she flew into the horizon, leaving white feathers drifting to the ground far below.