Eglin’s Interlude
Eglin was not afraid of the men. Eglin did not know what it was to be afraid.
Eglin did know what it was to see, and he saw many things from within the cage.
He did not know how long he had been inside the cage. Eglin would not understand you if you tried to explain the concept of time to him. Eglin did not need minutes or hours; he had the sun, and the moon and the stars to tell him what he needed.
But it had been a long while since he’d seen any of those. He’d gone too far from the woods, lured by his belly to the land of iron and stone, and no sun shone down upon this place.
Eglin felt his wings brush the cool iron of the cage’s bars but did not start. Eglin was too old for panic; he’d left that behind when he’d left his mother’s nest so long ago.
He had not panicked as he first felt the man’s poison spreading through him, clouding his thoughts and making even his wings dead weights upon his body, and he had not panicked when he’d woken in the cage.
What good would panic do old Eglin now?
No, Eglin didn’t have a mind for any of that these days. Much too old for that nonsense now.
The men were speaking again. Eglin could never understand how they spoke so often or what they spoke of. Eglin could not remember the last time he’d spoken to anyone; it had been too long since he’d seen one of his own, and what did he have to say to things like these?
One of the men came close and banged his knife against the bar. Still Eglin did not start; he’d heard metal on metal before, why should now be any different from before?
The other man came over and shouted at Eglin. Eglin did not reply; he’d heard words before, why should these be the words he answered when he’d ignored so many in the past?
Oh, how angry these men could get! Eglin did not know what it was to be angry, but surely it must be quite the ordeal. The taller of the men was almost frothing at the mouth!
Eglin chuckled to himself. What strange creatures these were! He’d gone too long without seeing one; he’d forgotten what a hoot they could be when they were in the right mood.
Eglin flared his wings and clicked out a yawned. The men jumped back, their tiny eyes wide, and then each laughed at the other for his fear. Eglin almost spoke, then; he’d wanted to explain he’d only been stretching, not trying to scare them, but he thought better of it. He frequently frightened them, only realizing what he’d done afterwards, and he was sure speaking to them would only set them off again.
Instead Eglin settled onto his haunches and wrapped his wings around him. It had been a while since he’d had a good sleep, and surely, he thought, he was due a few winks now.
Eglin left the men to their mutterings and their curses and set himself adrift in a world beyond; beyond himself, beyond the cage, beyond even the stars.