by David Attinburrow

 

Bellmoril! The home of the most ancient of forests. The splendour of fall can be seen throughout this region, and amongst the detritus and leaves, many creatures call this place home.

 

Today we follow the everyday life of a Fire bird. The female perches on a branch of a brilliant red maple tree, almost blending into her surroundings. With her sharp golden beak, dark red eyes, and brilliant plumage of red and orange, she lies in wait. Below her, a body of water flows gently downstream. She waits patiently, keeping a watchful eye on the stream, for tonight's dinner. Without moving a muscle she waits, until suddenly....

 

Her prey appears.

 

A golden fish, a local Bellmoril trout swims against the current. Its scales mirror the shade of the local fallen autumnal leaves. But natures camouflage can only do so much against the watchful gaze of the Fire bird. The trout swims upstream, unaware it is being watched. The Fire bird, pulls back its neck in anticipation, and time... seems... to hold still.  We watch with bated breath as she raises her wings... waiting for the winds to turn in her favour. When...

 

 

With a burst of movement, the Fire bird flies down into the water with striking speed, almost like a streak of fire raining down from the sky. Its beak perfectly poised downwards to spear through its prey. The local trout, stands no chance against its natural predator, and the hungry Fire bird, has secured its meal for today. She flies off, trout in claw, back to her nest in a nearby yellow Birch tree where three small chicks lie in wait in her nest made of her own downy feathers, spaghnum moss, clay and a variety of local materials. Carefully she divides the trout amongst her children, making sure none are left unfed. And thus life as we know it continues in this grand world we know as... the Eyre.