A few days had passed since Luna awoke as a barn owl, a transformation she could barely reconcile with her human mind. Yet, despite her struggles, she had quickly adapted to her new form, learning to hunt and survive with the keen instincts of a predator. Perched on a tree branch now, she gazed at the remains of a freshly caught rabbit—a sparse collection of bones and fur, deliberately left behind.
"Ugh! I still can't get used to eating like this," she sighed, feeling a wave of nausea. The thought of her first meal as an owl—a crude attempt that ended with her retching up a pellet—still haunted her. Each meal was a brutal reminder of her unfamiliar reality, one she wanted nothing more than to escape.
Luna's eyes scanned the sky above, the sun's rays filtering through the dense canopy. It was still noon, and the desire to break free from her life as a wild creature burned more fiercely than ever.
"I didn't sign up for this. Who wants to live scavenging, battling to survive, and eating raw meat every day? Well not me," she sighed.
She narrowed her eyes, determination hardening her resolve.
"I need to get back to that catacomb," she murmured, a slight shiver running through her as she recalled her final moments in Rome before waking up here.
"There's got to be a reason I ended up in this forest as an owl."
The desire to reclaim her life drove her to plan, knowing that flying back to Rome from this wilderness would be no easy feat. She would travel only at night and rest by day, to conserve energy and avoid potential predators. With the plan set, she leapt from her perch, her wings stretching wide as she took flight, gliding through the afternoon sky with a sense of purpose that felt almost like her old self again.
The thrill of flight was exhilarating; she could see everything from above, her sharp vision piercing through the shadows. "This part isn't so bad," she whispered, feeling a fleeting sense of freedom as she scanned the forest floor. Despite her troubles, there was a strange, eerie beauty in the ability to see in near darkness.
As she soared onward, Luna studied the terrain, searching for anything that resembled civilization—clearings, fields, a road that could guide her. Hours passed, and by dawn, fatigue finally tugged at her wings, forcing her to find a secluded spot high in the branches to rest.
The next few days fell into a rhythm of night travel, hunting prey in the early hours, and sleeping during the day. Though she moved with the silent precision of an owl, she never let her guard down, her senses sharp as she scoured her surroundings for threats.
On the fourth night, with hunger momentarily satisfied, Luna's flight brought her over a wide river. A gleam of water sparkled below, and her beak tingled at the thought of a drink.
"Perfect—now to clean myself up too," she thought, cringing as she noticed the red-brown stains matted into her feathers from her last meal.
She swooped down, landing on the riverbank before plunging her beak into the flowing water. The cool sensation was refreshing, washing away the grit of her recent kills. Luna spent some time meticulously cleaning her feathers, working until her pure white plumage gleamed again under the moonlight, giving her an ethereal glow.
At least I don't have to smell like a butcher's shop.
Though blood and gore were part of her past as an assassin, she had always maintained a level of fastidiousness. Even now, despite everything, she would not tolerate the lingering scent of blood on her feathers. Once her grooming was complete, she flew to a high branch to dry, the cool night breeze easing her into a light doze.
It was dawn when hunger stirred her awake once more. Luna scanned the ground below, spotting a hare in the underbrush. She prepared to dive, her muscles coiled like springs, but just as she dropped into a swift descent, a sharp whistle echoed through the air. She flinched, thrown off course as another shape plummeted toward her, colliding with her mid-air.
What is that?!
Reflexively, Luna conjured an ice barrier, crystallizing the air around her just as she glimpsed her assailant. It's a harpy eagle, but far larger than any she'd seen before, its feathers nearly as dark as the sky. Shock momentarily clouded her senses, but instinct took over, and she bolted back into the open air.
She caught her breath as she saw the eagle shake off her icy barrier with a powerful shiver, its talons glinting in the faint dawn light. The massive eagle wasn't just large; it was imposing, almost unnatural. She barely had time to react before he charged, his wings cutting through the air like blades.
"Where did this giant come from?" Luna muttered, desperate to put more distance between them as she flew as fast as her wings could carry her. She summoned her ice powers, casting a volley of sharp arrows back toward him.
"Take this!" she hissed, her gaze narrowed as she watched the frozen arrows slice through the sky. They hurtled toward the eagle, who seemed caught off guard by their speed. Luna allowed herself a brief moment of hope—that perhaps this would finally end the chase.
But before her arrows could make contact, a blinding burst of fire erupted from the eagle, melting the ice projectiles in an instant. The flames surged toward her, the sheer heat knocking her backward in a violent gust. Luna struggled to steady herself, her head spinning as the world tilted around her. She barely regained control when a fierce screech tore through the air.
With a sinking heart, she turned, only to see the harpy eagle charging once more, his talons outstretched like blades ready to pierce her. His speed was overwhelming, and before she could dodge, he struck her, slamming her sideways with the force of a storm. Pain shot through her as she tumbled, her vision blurring.
This is bad. I need to get out before I'm a meal!
Desperation fueled her as she flapped her wings, but he was relentless, his shadow engulfing her once again. Luna pushed herself harder, zigzagging through the trees, hoping the dense forest would slow him down.
But a fierce, thunderous voice stopped her cold. "Running won't save you, little owl!"
Luna barely had time to register his words when he swooped again, his talons reaching. She scrambled to evade, but the strike hit her hard, knocking her into a tailspin as her vision dimmed.
Just before she lost consciousness, she glimpsed the harpy eagle's blazing eyes—piercing, intelligent, and unsettlingly intense.
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The sky was streaked with pinks and purples as dawn broke, casting soft light over the vast forest canopy below. High above, a powerful harpy eagle sliced through the air, his massive wings cutting through the morning mist. In his talons hung two forms: an unconscious owl and a freshly caught hare, the latter's blood slowly dripping down into the trees below.
The eagle's dark feathers gleamed in the growing light, his eyes sharp and intense as he focused on a distant tree—a colossal ancient oak with thick, twisting branches that held a small, well-crafted structure. Talon's personal hideout.
In moments, he reached his hidden camp, angling his wings to slow his descent toward the treehouse nestled between the thick branches. Landing softly, he grasped the wooden railing before setting his burdens down. He dropped the owl and the hare onto the wooden floor, raised his head, and allowed himself a brief, satisfied sigh before transforming back into his human form.
In an instant, the majestic harpy eagle was replaced by a tall, muscular young man of around nineteen, with thick black hair, sharp features, and fair skin that seemed almost ethereal in the morning light. His dark eyes flickered over his captured prey—a snowy white barn owl, lying limp on the floor. She was unusually beautiful for an owl, her pristine feathers gleaming faintly even in her unconscious state.
His name was Talon, the leader of the Moons, an elite group of shapeshifters and assassins with powers tied to the phases of the moon. Known for his fierce abilities in fire manipulation, Talon was both respected and feared among his kind.
Without much thought, he scooped the owl into his arms, barely pausing to examine her delicate, limp form. She felt almost weightless in his grasp, her snowy feathers soft but ruffled from their earlier clash. He carried her to a low bed nestled in the corner of the treehouse, and with little concern, he carelessly tossed her onto the blankets.
The owl landed with a muted thump, her small body sprawled awkwardly across the worn fabric, utterly oblivious to her captor's actions or the unfamiliar surroundings now enclosing her. Her feathers shifted slightly with the motion, but she remained still, caught in the depths of unconsciousness.
Satisfied, Talon turned to the hare. He lifted the bloodied animal and stepped outside to his small fire pit, preparing his meal with the efficiency of someone well-versed in survival. Soon, the rich aroma of roasting meat filled the air, and Talon relaxed as he ate, his hunger from the hunt easing with every bite.
When he had finally finished, Talon extinguished the fire and returned to the treehouse. His gaze fell on the owl lying on his bed, her small chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, studying her closely.
"How did she manage that ice barrier?" he murmured, his eyes narrowing. He had never known an owl—especially one this small and seemingly harmless—to wield powers like his own. His thoughts turned over the possibilities.
"She could be a spy, sent by those in the shadows."
The thought gnawed at him—could the other side have perfected a new experiment? A creature as unassuming as it was clever, designed to infiltrate without suspicion. Those in the shadows had been capturing unsuspecting animals and conducting twisted experiments to bend them to their will. The subjects of these experiments were engineered to possess a child-like intelligence—not too smart to cause a rebellion, but not too dull to follow simple commands. Yet this owl was different. Unlike the others, who lacked any real abilities, she had demonstrated a capacity for power, conjuring a formidable ice barrier in the blink of an eye. The idea sent a chill down his spine.
He glanced at her again, feeling a ripple of intrigue in his chest. The notion of keeping her here to observe made sense; she could provide valuable insight. Whether she was a friend or foe remained to be seen, but he wasn't about to let her slip away without uncovering the truth. If she truly was from the shadows, she could be an asset—or a threat. Either way, he intended to discover everything about her.
For now, he would keep her close, treating her as nothing more than a new pet under his care. A smirk flickered across his face at the thought, almost amusing.
"Yes… she'll be my little mystery to solve."
Vivid memories of their encounter flashed in his mind—the strange owl conjuring a powerful ice barrier in the blink of an eye. Was she truly an ordinary creature, or something more sinister?
Talon shook his head, trying to dispel the unease settling in his gut. "This can't be a coincidence," he murmured, his brow furrowing. What if they were sending out more of these experiments to gather intelligence? If this owl was part of a new wave of sophisticated agents, it would complicate his mission.
His mentors had warned him about the lengths their enemies would go, using dark magic and twisted science to create beings that could blend in undetected. Talon had been tracking the traces of shadows in this area for almost a month now, yet he hadn't managed to catch any of them until now, with Luna's unexpected appearance. The chilling prospect loomed large in his mind. This owl could very well be the beginning of a new breed of creatures—one that could sway the balance of power if left unchecked.
He stopped pacing and leaned against the wooden railing of his treehouse, looking out over the forest. The soft rustle of leaves filled the air, but his mind was far from peaceful. He needed to be cautious, strategic. If this owl was indeed a product of dark magic, he had to understand her powers and intentions before making any rash decisions.
"Keeping her here is the only way to find out," he decided, a sense of resolve hardening in his chest. He had faced many challenges as the leader of the Moons, and he was not one to shy away from danger. She might be an enigma now, but he would uncover her secrets.
Determined, Talon decided that the owl would need a comfortable place to recover—something contained yet secure. The hard wooden bed was far from a suitable resting place for an injured owl, especially one as young as this. She had only just grown enough to learn how to fly, and her delicate body needed a gentler environment to heal. He couldn't risk her escaping or injuring herself before he had the answers he sought. Every moment counted; he had to ensure her safety while meticulously devising a plan to earn her trust.
He rummaged through some supplies, gathering soft leaves, moss, and feathers he had saved from past hunts. Each trip back to the nearby grove was purposeful, his mind racing with strategies. As he wove the materials together, he constructed a cozy nest in the corner of the treehouse, ensuring it was both inviting and secure. When it was ready, he gave it a few test pokes to check its softness, nodding to himself in satisfaction. After all, if she woke up suddenly, he needed to maintain control over the situation and keep her from panicking.
With a final glance at the owl sprawled across his bed, he knelt beside her, inspecting the delicate creature closely. He brushed aside a few feathers to reveal the cuts and bruises marring her otherwise pristine plumage—their collision had left her with minor wounds that required attention. Talon knew that tending to her injuries would serve a dual purpose: not only would it help her recover, but it might also foster a sense of trust between them.
"I can't let you bleed out," he muttered, reaching for a small pouch hanging by the wall. Inside were herbs and salves, remnants of his training with the Moons. He had never tended to another creature before, but survival demanded resourcefulness. Carefully, he selected a few healing herbs, recalling the lessons from his mentors about their properties.
As he prepared to dress her wounds, he focused on maintaining a calm demeanor. He spoke softly, as if she could hear him, hoping to instill a sense of safety in her.
"You're going to be alright. I'll take care of you," he promised, knowing that his actions could shape her perception of him.
Every movement was deliberate; he wanted her to see that he was not a threat but rather someone who could help her heal. The more he could show his intentions, the more likely she would trust him when she awakened.
He mixed a paste, choosing herbs with healing properties, and spread it gently over her cuts. His fingers, surprisingly tender, brushed over her feathers. Despite himself, he noticed how her feathers shone even in her unconscious state, their beauty striking him in a way he hadn't anticipated.
Once the wounds were dressed, Talon stepped back, admiring his handiwork. He glanced around the treehouse, contemplating the next step. He couldn't let her remain on his bed, yet she needed a proper place to heal. He couldn't risk losing such a straightforward source of valuable information.
Settling into a chair nearby, Talon kept his eyes on her, reflecting on the events that had led them here. His thoughts swirled, uncertain of what her presence would mean for him and his goals. Whatever secrets she held, he would uncover them in due time.
For now, all he could do was wait, tending to her needs while he observed and investigated her mysterious powers.
As the sun rose higher, casting dappled light through the canopy, Talon took a deep breath, settling his mind. He may have captured a mystery wrapped in feathers, but he wouldn't let her remain a puzzle for long.
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