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Chatterbox: Inkwell
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This is what I have so far for my story about eagles. It's about an eagle who wants to travel. . . but I will keep adding chapters. Hope you like it! 
Chapter 1
Bird song echoed through a mossy evergreen forest. Owls and other night-time creatures flew and crept into their lairs of darkness for the day. Fog lay heavily over the tree-tops, while squirrels rummaged through fallen leafs and pine cones, searching for leftover acorns to devour. The lake was still, but it's rippling waters touched the shore of dirt and lichen-covered granite stones. But on the highest tree in the evergreen woods, there lay a nest home to a family of bald eagles. Two adults crouched over their two chicks, their shoulder's hunched as they gave the eaglets the fish that was caught the day before.
The smaller of the two chicks peered out to the horizon of pale orange dawn sky. Frosty mountains, majestic, tall, proud-looking, stood in the distance of his woven nest. An echo rang through them, running into the chick's ear-slits hidden in his tangle of fluffy down feathers. Come here and travel. . . see the world. . . The mountains seemed to be speaking to him softly. The eaglet glanced at them, yearning to travel to them and perhaps further away, but they seemed so distant. . .
"Wake up!" a voice hissed in the eaglet's ear. Blinking sleep from his eyes, he glanced upward to see his older brother Striker narrowing his eyes, peering at him as if he were a tasty fish, ready to be gulped down.
"Okay, okay. I'm up," the eaglet grumbled. He must have dozed off after seeing the mountains, but he didn't remember if he did or not. Sighing, he roused himself and stood facing his older brother.
"You know very well that I have a flying lesson today, Altair," Striker went on, addressing his younger sibling so formally that Altair wondered if Striker had suddenly became leader and boss of the nest.
"Oh goody, Altair! You're up finally! You slept like an owl!" a higher voice cried. Saved from Striker's annoying excuse, Altair whirled, stared, smiled as he found Ms. Rosemary, a sparrow that served as a maid and baby-sitter for Altair's mother and father, Mist and Joss.
Sparrows, chickadees and other small birds often would become maids for birds of prey such as hawks, eagles, and falcons. The smaller birds would keep the nest clean by eating grubs and invasive insects. They could also look after chicks for a few hours after the parents left to go hunting. They could alert their bosses of a large, fearsome predator such as a wolf, or of a bobcat that could climb trees.
In return, the bird of prey would protect the little bird from predators and other dangers, and also offer the maid a home in the hollow or nest. After the chicks grew up, the maid left until the next time. Ms. Rosemary, however, was an exception. She was such a trusted maid that, after she had looked after Mist as a chick, she was asked to look after Mist's own brood, consisting of Striker, the fighter and the tough one; Altair, the clever and the sensible one, whom also seemed to daydream a lot, and also an egg, laying right smack in the middle of the nest. It was to be hatched very soon, perhaps today even.
It was an honor for a maid to be trusted with an egg, since they needed to be kept warm all the time. For warmth, Ms. Rosemary had placed sheets of moss over it. She chuckled to herself. One more chick to look after. As if looking after Striker and Altair wasn't hard enough! Oh, how I long to look after a little female; raise it just like I did with Mist, she thought.
She turned to look at the two chicks. "So, what shall we do?" she asked them thoughtfully, addressing them carefully. She honestly thought they could play a quiet game or tell small legends and stories. But clearly Striker had a different idea of fun when he said, "Let's fight with talons. I'll fight you,Altair, if you aren't afraid!"
"Of course not, Striker," Ms. Rosemary replied sharply before Altair could deny or accept the challenge. "There will be no such thing while I am looking after you two!" She shot him a quick glare, before turning to Altair. "What do you want to do, Altair?" she asked.
Personally, Ms. Rosemary liked Altair, the younger chick better. Altair had better sense than the other one, and he always seemed to have good ideas. But, Striker seemed obsessed with fighting and his wings flared and spread wide, from one side of the nest to the other end, when someone in the family mentioned anything like battling wolves, or dueling mountain lions. He got even more excited when it was those two against one another. To Ms. Rosemary, it was hideous to think of those two different creatures fighting each other for Naturia's sake.
Naturia was the creator of all animals and plants, and most animals worshipped and believed in her, the way humans, a different type of creature, worshipped god. Naturia loved peace, and would sometimes reward creatures for doing something brave or for doing the right thing, thus performing good deeds for all species at one time or another.
Predators like the bobcats, wolves, and mountain lions were given sharp teeth and claws to kill prey.
Birds were given wings to fly, but birds of prey were given a lot of gifts from Naturia; talons to hold prey and to defend themselves, keen eyesight to see prey and other objects miles away, hooked beaks to tear meat, and lastly, strong intelligence and abilities to learn from others.
However, Rabbits were given large feet and strong legs to outrun these predators most of the time, while fish were given fins to propel them through the water.
Altair, who had hesitated before replying, said, "Sing us a song, Ms. Rosemary!" He loved her voice, especially the soft ring to it, sounding like a cave of ice, with a gentle murmuring wind breezing through.
Striker shook his head in disagreement. "I'm too old for this," he scoffed, before going to the far end of the nest. Striker was a week older than Altair, and already had the beginnings of golden-brown flight feathers sprouting through down. His head was covered entirely in brown feather, but his body still had gray patches of down. Altair, however, had only a small amount of real feathers weaving through his down. It would be another week before he would be able to fly and that took time and patience.
"Me? Oh Altair, you know I'm not sure. . ." the sparrow replied dryly. If only she knew of the beauty of her voice, the flowing-like sounds of her songs; after all, sparrows were very good vocalists. It was their gift from Naturia. But Ms. Rosemary didn't think her voice was good, especially since she cracked her voice at a chorus for songbirds, years ago. It had recovered from then, of course, but she still didn't even hum a tune, in case it cracked or went bad, and that was that.
But Altair persisted. "Please? You only have to do it once," he pleaded. Oh great Naturia, he is just as bad as his brother! Ms. Rosemary joked to herself. She let out a deep sigh before turning to Altair, and out of her voice came a song:
Oh, Great'ol Lord Naturia,
How you look after us!
Oh, the eyes that shine,
Twinkling in the night,
The tears that gleam,
Are like the stars in the sky!
The bear who fishes,
The cougar that hunts,
The bird that sings,
how we are connected as one!
The sun is shining bright,
How we all want light,
The river that flows,
How we all worship you!
When Ms. Rosemary had finished the song, a heavy flap of wings let in a windy gust of air. Mist, who was a light brown eagle with misty-gray and white feathers on her head, had a large salmon in her talons, while Joss, her mate, carried a neatly killed rabbit under his feet.
"You're home," Ms. Rosemary sighed. She glanced up at the sky, that was streaked with rays of red, pink and orange clouds. Patches of blue sky were still visible. "It's close to evening, and I wondered where you were."
"How did the children behave?" Mist asked as she relaxed her grip on the fish.
"Oh, just fine, my lovely." Ms. Rosemary turned around and headed back to the egg, wrapping and weaving twigs and moss together to create a small barrier to keep it warm.
Joss wobbled over to where Altair was staring at the mountains; the young chick's eyes were wide with amazement.
"Hey, you alright?" Joss placed the rabbit down at his son's feet. He had seen Altair like this many times, gaze fixed on the mountains as if he longed to go there.
"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm okay." Altair plucked some flesh off the freshly killed rabbit.
"Are you sure?" Joss narrowed his eyes to slits, the amber glint like the rays of the sun during an eclipse.
"Yes! I'm fine!" Altair snapped. He dipped his beak into the carcass and pulled on a piece of fat. He swallowed; on a normal day, he would have felt the flavors of the rabbit on his tongue, but Altair felt like he was eating a rock. Should he tell his father about his longings?
"I don't think so," Joss said. "You know, if something is wrong, you tell me. Alright?" The father scrapped his talons against the nest.
Altair sighed and looked at his father. "Well, I have these dreams. . ." the eaglet began, but Striker's voice cut him off.
"Dad! Aren't we going to have our flight lessons?" Striker asked impatiently.
"Yes, son!" Joss answered. He seemed to forget Altair entirely as he hurried over to his oldest chick.
Their voices died off as they went further away to some pine trees nearby to try the first task; flapping wings for take-off.
Altair sighed and turned back towards the beautiful mountains. If Naturia created animals, who created mountains and forests? Altair wondered. With his keen eyesight, he spotted think sheets of ice and snow nestled on top; think gray stone and jagged peaks gave the mountains its shape, while conifers and pines were scattered sparingly, keeping distance from each other.
A small, almost inaudible, crack split through Altair's thoughts, like a dagger splitting through the body of a victim. Altair turned to the nest, peering around. What was that?
He stood alert for the next sound.
Crack!
He whirled around and found a small, jagged crack along the perfectly smooth, oval shaped egg. It's going to hatch! he thought excitedly. Quickly, he hurried over to where his mom was, gazing out to the horizon, watching Striker and his father practice some flying techniques. Of course, Striker wasn't going to fly quite yet, but he was going to learn how to flap his wings and take off.
"Mom! Mom!" Altair screeched. "The egg's going to hatch!"
"Really!?" Mist cried. Just to make sure, she lifted her head and whipped around. Sure enough, a small crack appeared along the body of the egg. Another small jagged squiggle appeared that same heartbeat, and Mist nearly fainted with joy.
"Joss! Joss!! The egg's coming!" she shrieked. She swung her head around. "Ms. Rosemary! Where are you?"
"Right here, madame," the sparrow answered out of a small hollow below. Ms. Rosemary pumped her wings up, with a small acorn cup of blackberry tea in her claws. She landed with a thud as she handed Mist the cup.
"Drink it all, Mist. Helps to calm down the anxious." Ms. Rosemary fluttered her wings and turned to the egg.
Joss swooped in with Striker in his talons. He placed his eldest son down and hurried to Mist. "Calm down, honey," he soothed. "We've gone through this many times before." He pressed his wing against her shoulder, both of them looking down at the egg.
"I know," Mist sighed. "But each time, it seems like the first."
Ms. Rosemary placed an acorn cup filled to the brim with tea in front of Joss, then she carefully removed the sheets of moss off the egg.
"Thank you, Ms. Rosemary," Joss breathed, dipping his head to the maid; in return, Ms. Rosemary bowed in honor and continued to watch the egg and its parents.
Then the first sign of the chick appeared; its beak. It began to tap it lightly against the shell of the egg. A little egg-tooth was at the edge of its beak.
Altair was curious about the egg-tooth that the chick had. "Mom? Dad? What happened to my egg-tooth?"
"It fell off, idiot," Striker said matter-of-factly, but Altair's parents were too absorbed with the hatching egg.
submitted by Nicole P., age 10, Marin County, C
(December 19, 2009 - 6:34 pm)
(December 19, 2009 - 6:34 pm)
Personally I think it's awesome. The only problem is that it reminds me of the first chapter in the first book in The Guardians of Ga'Hoole series.
(December 20, 2009 - 8:33 pm)
I know. . . does anyone have an idea for a first chapter about a little eagle who wants to travel, and he lives with his parents until something happens? Give me ideas, please!
(December 22, 2009 - 1:13 pm)
That's really really good, Nicole! Very descriptive, but not rambly! And I like the idea of the smaller birds being maids. And they are bald eagles, I'm guessing? They look very beatiful when they fly... I live near a eagle nest. They don't live in the nest all year, though, only in nesting season or whatever it's called.
(December 22, 2009 - 3:58 pm)
Thanks, Meadow!
(December 23, 2009 - 1:32 pm)