My fingernails clawed at the smooth cottonwood bark. With the strap wrapped around my neck and shoulder, my bag of apples attempted to throttle me. These were, in truth, inconsequential; nails, if torn, regrew, and apples, if bruised, got eaten faster.
'The black rabbit? It's no rabbit — it's an Infected. That's an issue.'
Its red eyes locked onto me, and its sharp fangs glinted in the morning light. The eyes shifted, and it studied the cottonwood, tracing the branches up the trunk. I didn't think the rabbit could reach the lowest branch.
'If the Infected were known for being predictable, they wouldn't have killed—'
Shaking my head, I forced the memory away and focused on the present. Keeping my motions smooth, I swung myself onto the limb, high above the ground, that I'd hung from. Once I had a hand free, I pulled the bag's strap over my head. The red eyes followed me with a predator's intensity as I looped the strap over a sturdy side-branch, securing it out of the way, then crouched low. My bare toes flexed against the bark, and the Infected hopped closer.
'Not a lot of options here.' My knives — both the broken one and the one worn to a sliver — were back at my post. My lips curled in a silent snarl; I couldn't afford another broken blade, anyway. My crystal pulsed against my chest. 'I could seal it in a shield, but then what?' The moment my attention pulled away, it would be free again. And a shield wouldn't stop it from summoning more.
The back of my neck prickled, and I darted a glance behind me, checking.
'Why hasn't it called more? What's it waiting for?' Bile rose in my throat. 'Or maybe it did — I'd have heard it shriek, but it may have another way to communicate.' The dull throb in my gut taunted me, and I ground my teeth. I narrowed my eyes and sent my fingers into the mesh bag.
A green, too-firm apple nestled in my palm as I stepped clear of the branch and let myself fall. Leafless twigs whipped past my face, scratching the vulnerable skin, and my chest was so tight my lungs ached. Branch after branch slid away, tempting my fingers to latch on. Instead, my feet twisted me, oh-so-delicately, left and right, steering my descent. One breath, then two, then my arm pulled back and threw the apple with all my strength. Once the fruit cleared my fingertips, my form shifted, gaining wings and speed as my owl form stooped.
My aim — or my luck — was better than I'd expected; the Infected leapt toward the cottonwood when I plummeted, and the apple's arc smacked into its fangs, knocking it backward. My talons sank into the midnight fur before it could recover, and my beak darted in, tearing at its neck for a faster kill. It jerked, trying to bring teeth or claws to bear on me, but my wings flapped frantically, lofting my body while my talons kept the beast down. Soon — though not soon enough for my preference — the thing lay still, and its fur shifted from black to russet with fawn stripes.
I shifted quickly back to my flightless form, staggering away from the carcass and gagging against the foul blood. Scrabbling at the weedy ground cover, I clawed up some dirt, stuffing it in my mouth. I chewed and spat, stuffed more in, and repeated until good, clean dirt covered most of the nauseating tang of Infected. My stomach seized, purging itself of apples and water before it stilled. Breath harsh in my lungs, I sank back onto my heels and stared at the Infected.
'Well, step one down. It's dead and easier than the porcupine last moon. But this was closer to home and showed up a lot sooner than the one before.' My lips curled, and I tamped down the thread of unease. Nevermind. 'It's just a coincidence. I need to clean this up and get back to the post before the fever sets in.'
The ache had already started in my toes — still stained with the blood drawn by my talons — and would spread from there. The consequences of direct contact with an Infected wasn't fatal — not for one of my kind — but experience promised that I was in for several unpleasant days.
'So much easier if it runs into a snare.'
I shifted again, knowing the price I'd pay in pain later, and snatched the carcass in one talon. Beating my wings heavily, I flew onto the branch and snatched my bag. A tendril of power lightened its weight — a trick with a price. But again, what choice did I have? With my now-balanced burdens, I flew silently back to my post.
Once there, I landed heavily, panting gape-beaked while I searched for the focus needed to shift back. My wits wandered, and I lost track of myself. The world regained focus briefly when I watched the flames in my firepit envelop the bloody, skinned Infected. The rising heat bathed my front as if I were part of the inferno, but the icy chill from behind pulled me back. My muscles spasmed in desperate shivers and my skin slicked with sweat.
'It's not that cold. It's just the fever.' My body didn't listen, so I focused through my quartz, binding myself to watch the fire until the Infected was wholly consumed and the flames died down. Only then could I allow my flightless form to crawl up the spiral platform, dragging the mesh bag, and burrow into my nest.
'A heavy price. But worth it, to stop one Infected from polluting this forest.' My slipping awareness assessed the drain on my physical and mental resources; I'd be lucky to shift again before the new moon. Worry chased me into unconsciousness — would I be able to reach the harvest festival in time?