We’re back for the next episode in the Owl Shaped adventure =)
If you missed the last couple weeks, let me fill you in. For your magicks class, you have to form an animated animal out of animas clay. You want to create an owl but, since you haven’t seen one up close, you’re having a hard time keeping the creature’s shape clear in your mind. Your teacher has given you one night to figure it out and you decided to climb a tree to see the owl’s nest on your farm. When you climbed the tree, you got a few seconds peek before the momma owl decided to attack. Now, you’ve decided to climb the tree again because those few seconds didn’t give you much time to really look at the baby owls.
Let’s see what happens next.
Owl Shaped Option Aa. Attempt to see owls again
The image in your mind of the owls seems to get fuzzier and fuzzier the harder you try to recall the details. At this point, the animas clay might hold the large, curious eyes of the birds but have no distinct body.
You can’t get full credit for such a half-formed creature.
Around you, the house lays silent with sleep. You tuck the clay into your pajama’s pocket and slip from bed.
Down the stairs you go, determined to get the owl image perfect in your mind. You skip the third stair that squeaks and tiptoe on the left side of the last step to avoid the groan it always emits.
Then you’re out the door and at the base of the tree again without mom or dad the wiser. No tail feathers stick out over the edge of the nest, so you’re reasonably sure the momma bird is away hunting.
The night’s breeze caresses your nose and ears, chilling them as you pull yourself up into the tree again.
The owlets swivel their heads in unison to look at you when you peek over the side of their home. One gives a ‘whoho—whooho00” like he’s asking you what you’re about. The other hides behind him.
Again, their large, curious eyes grab your attention but this time you have more than a second to truly take in their clawed feet and the shape of their bodies. The bolder of the two flutters his wings in agitation and you study the soft down that covers the baby appendages.
There’s a whoosh and an ear splitting screech just before the momma owl sinks her claws into your shoulder. You don’t make the same mistake as last time and let go of the tree. Instead, you pull yourself tight against the cottonwood’s trunk.
The momma owl lets go only to come at you again. You bat her away and lower yourself a few branches down.
This isn’t far enough for her, though, and she angles her body in at you, sinking her clays into your side and leg.
You bat at her again and the back of your hand strikes her in the chest with a solid thud. She backs up, beating her wings to keep air born.
This allows you to quickly lower yourself out of the tree.
You don’t pause once you’re on the ground. Pain shoots through your hip and side where she punctured skin as you race for the front door of the house.
Her screech follows you and from the sound of it, she’s giving chase. You get through the door and close it just as there’s a thud against the wooden frame. You hear claws tearing at the screen of the outside door.
After a moment, the sound fades. You sink onto the kitchen floor. With shaking hands, you inspect your shoulder and side and hip. The shoulder’s fine. Bruised with a few small dots of blood from her claws puncturing the skin, but it’s nothing a night’s sleep won’t help.
You side looks like you tried to grate it like cheese. It reminds you of the road rash you get when you fall off your bike on the gravel road.
It’s the hip that’s concerning. The momma owl sank her claws, not only through your pajamas, but through the clay in your pocket and then into your skin.
Terror seizes your heart. You scrub the wound with soap and water from the kitchen sink, rinse it, and scrub it again.
After a third washing, you assure yourself it’s clean, and head up to bed.
Morning sunshine and the clank of pans from mom cooking eggs in the kitchen wake you from sleep filled with bird’s wings and soapy water. It’s now or never to make your owl, so you set the lump of clay on your desk and shape its body with your hands. To your surprise, it holds the shape you set. With a deep breath, you step back and start the process of animating the clay from focusing your mind.
Feathers start to fluff out from the oval shape and excitement grows in your chest. There’s a tingling in your skin, which isn’t totally unexpected, the instructor did mention some odd side effects that could happen while working magick.
Except the tingling grows stronger until it feels like your entire body is awakening from the loss of blood flow.
The clay on the desk now has a beak and large eyes but your own eyes have blurred, filling with tears from your discomfort.
You try to stop, to maybe refocus your attempt. No one in class seemed to have these problems. But the process won’t stop now. You’ve gone too far with the animation process.
As you watch, the bird on the desk flows into fluid clay again, but it’s not melting like before, it’s flowing toward you. The clay touches your skin and starts to spread. Before you know it, it’s covering your body in a very thin film and the tingling is so intense you can barely draw breath. Your vision blurs even more, goes yellow around the edges and then blacks out.
You wake on the floor. With a hand, you move to push off the wooden surface but the motion doesn’t feel natural. When you look down to assess why, all breath leaves your body in a high-pitched wheeze.
You’re oval shaped and feathery. Long claws flex out when you try to move your feet.
With a wing, not a hand, you finally gain your feet. You hear mom climbing the steps toward your room and you scuttle under to bed to hide.
You’re an owl. A very large, horned owl. Even getting under the bed proves to be difficult.
Mom peeks into your room and give a soft ‘huh,’ before closing your door again.
What do you do now?
The instructor might know how to change you back but that means getting to the school, as an owl. Or you could try to change back on your own but, since you weren’t able to stop the animation process on your own, changing back might not prove successful either.
Aa1. Head to School?
Aa2. Try to Change Back Alone?
Well that didn’t go quite at planned. Leave a comment below to let me know which option you’d like to explore. Next Thursday we’ll round up this adventure and see how it ends.
Until then, blessings,