Whenever a hunter needed to reliably locate their prey, choosing a spot familiar to them with creatures whose habits were well-known was the obvious place to start. For Miriam, the passage between Cepheus and Pegasus suited this assignment well. The ignorant and unadventurous of those who wandered down the tree-woven way might not have thought the same, the path too clear of debris and absent of visible Lesser dens to think many prospects lurked nearby. But then they'd be fools not to notice the constant birdsong which followed their steps throughout.
Finding the source of this could be a challenge, the many responsible for the music hidden well by overlapping branches and the leaves that shrouded the spaces in between. Winding amongst those like a creeping vine to reach feathered game might be impossible for any with spines too inflexible to avoid falling gracelessly to the ground after a misplaced grip of the paw on air instead of wood. A serpent needn't worry about such issues despite lacking claws to grasp, their form as sinuous as that which they squeezed between, over, and under. And a Tatzelwurm, possessing two forelimbs in addition to senses keen and a mind superior to a simple snake, could only have absolute confidence in reaching her quarry.
So here Miriam was, every foot of her coiled within the tunnel's canopy, embarking on a hunt seeming, if not for its end goal, very much routine. Wide ultramarine eyes, devoid of emotion, scanned for glimpses of feathers and fluttering wings. Ever bored, her jaws parted in a yawn, tongue quivering for the scent of bird.
Most of all, though, she relied on the instinct which came easiest to her. A pulse of desire was sent out, seeking out something gemmed to bounce off of.
Time usually would be no issue for Miriam. Her stomach not often concerned with receiving daily sustenance, going months to digest the last gorging session before hunger pangs could hit anew, she could wait forever and frequently did to catch the presence of lurking prey. In the current situation, however, haste would be required to ingratiate herself with the palace tailor. Laziness might be construed as lack of care for what was deemed an emergency.
The air lay still and undisturbed minutes afterward, no magic returning to her with signs of life to pursue. She rolled her eyes and tried again, none too pleased at having to repeat herself.
Second attempt rewarded by the pleasant chime of feedback tickling the inside of her ears, Miriam allowed herself a smile. Beyond the presence of any she needed to convince of good intentions, fangs gleamed in full, stretching from the far corner of one eye to the other. Now that she had confirmation of something to trail after and its general direction, all that was required was her pinpointing the location using more physical means.
Her pink tongue, end twitching, darted out and swiped over lips. The scent which ghosted over it evoked a host of memories: complicated melodies ringing through the tunnel, claws clasping around a squirming blue form all atwitter with panic, and the warm satisfaction of silence in the wake of a ceased struggle.
Slowly she slid forward, belly scraping over bark, careful in her approach so as not to disturb much the leaves keeping her separate from her target. Weaving in and out of the branches a movement natural to her, all focus could be placed on maintaining secrecy and keeping her senses open to at last lay eyes upon what no doubt must be a caroller yet to burst into song.
Her caution was rewarded. Though there'd been a few moments the scent had almost been lost, other creatures less interesting to her tainting the trail with their own less desired stench, now the bird could be seen from where she presently crouched. Mouth agape drank in the familiarity of her prey but did not water; she wasn't hungry, of course. It'd be a while more before her stomach would demand fresh meat for fuel.
The caroller hopped in place upon its perch. Perhaps it was psyching itself up to let loose the tune unique to its particular soul. But Miriam did not care for whatever reasons it existed in this moment. Her gaze was only for the long, luxurious tail feathers sweeping over the branch—surely the plumage would be well appreciated when used for a cloak or shawl.
Coils drew closer together as muscles tensed in preparation for attack. She leaped.
A single note left the caroller's beak, high and hopeful. Then no more. Its neck had been soundly snapped.
Finished with the easy part of her work, next came the tedium. Normally, down the gullet a Lesser would go, consumed and promptly forgotten as most inferior creatures were. In this instance, she'd have to do far more: removing a gem and plucking each feather as delicately as possible so that they could be used for whatever articles of clothing Mimosa would create.
The first was not too difficult to find compared to other specimens she'd witnessed over the cycles. It jutted in a gleaming show of asymmetry out of the top of the caroller's wing. A thin crescent shape, having tough scales helped shield Miriam from any possible cuts she might have sustained otherwise prying the stone from its anchor in bone. Unfortunately, blood soaked the feathers surrounding the wound she'd had to open there. At least the stain was small enough that there was still plenty to salvage elsewhere.
The remainder of the hour was dedicated to pulling each feather out, making sure they stayed as intact as possible. Utterly boring and mind-numbing business, even for one used to long stretches of nothing such as herself, she piled them directly in front of her. Once finished, they provided a lovely display cushion for the stone then placed there.
Lessers had the uncanny ability to sense when one of their own have fallen. She'd have to wait if she wished to find any more to slay. The Tatzelwurm rested her chin upon her paws, ready for however much time it would take for the birds to resume singing.
Lethargic as usual, it should come as no surprise that Miriam had drowsed off in the midst of demonstrating patience. Once able to reluctantly rouse herself from sleep, she blinked away the bleariness as best as she could from her eyes and stared off into the distance. So recently awoken, recalling how to use magic was quite more of an effort than she'd ever willingly admit. Nevertheless, she tried. If lucky, this Lesser would not be too far away from the one previous.
That would indeed be the case, the ping she received back from the pulse sent out ringing a pure and clear tone. Any vestiges of tiredness were dispelled as soon as it was heard. Rising to her paws and unbunching her coils, she stretched all the kinks out of her body from neck to tail tip. The hunt was on again, and one needed to be limber to ensure not a single beast escaped.
Unlike the caroller, this bird was not alone. Incredibly social, rainbow spinners preferred to band together like the colors of their namesake. Happy and indifferent to the genuine risk of death looming a pace away, the entire lot chirped up a storm. They jumped and danced in a cluster about a few woven branches, clearly enjoying each others' company.
The one that had drawn her to this gathering was slimmer than typical and had more difficulty moving about compared to the rest. No wonder why—not just a talon, but an entire set weighed more than its counterpart, the whole foot up to the ankle made of stone. Quite a disadvantage to have when fleeing a predator, but that might not even be a factor in catching it. Birds of this kind were a simple sort, unlikely to be alarmed unless the threat posed to them was undeniable.
If she was a worthy actress, none would notice a thing.
Miriam parted her lips ever so slightly and blew. The soft whistle attracted the attention of a few of the birds. They stopped their little get-together to cock their heads at the gigantic pair of eyes watching them from behind a veil of leaves. She chuckled, amused at the absolute lack of fear.
The birds continued to stare. Those who hadn't noticed her before caught onto the distraction of their fellows and joined them. A silence fell, neither uncomfortable or tense. Curious at best.
Then Miriam inhaled and all hell was unleashed. Or more accurately, heaven suddenly plummeted to earth as the very section of canopy everyone was gathered in broke apart. Branches snapped, showering the area with splinters. Empty space replaced what'd been solid beneath claws and scales. A second was all she had to gasp and reach out for something sturdy to keep her upper body from hitting the tunnel's bottom, surrounded by frantic cheeps. The destruction too much, though, she found only more air.
She landed on both paws, pain radiating up them. Her body had been kept up by the back portion still wrapped securely around branches which had been far enough away to avoid being affected by the aforementioned chaos. Flight a boon, the flock of rainbow spinners were scattering in every which direction. If she didn't act quickly, her opportunity to grab any would be lost.
Steam could've threatened to pour from her ears, judging by the rage contained within the hiss Miriam issued as she willed her battered torso to move. Although the bird she wanted had a hindrance, her current position might grant it the fortune required to keep its tiny heart beating. Daring to loosen the coils still attached to the intact portion of canopy, she dragged herself forward, searching for a stone foot in a whirlwind of rainbow feathers.
The zip of colors all over the place made her swat blind, uncoordinated and desperate. Claws clacked, the sole indicator she had that her blow had struck against the right spinner. Without hesitation, she yanked on the leg, swinging her arm downward.
There was a distinct sound of bone shattering as the bird struck the ground headfirst. Panicked chirps gained in pitch as the Lessers realized their danger. Some whisked themselves away into hiding places close by. Meanwhile others fled the tunnel, deeming safety to be as far away from the site of death as possible. Whichever they chose, eventually fearful noises faded to silence again. Miriam welcomed it, having just about had her fill of excitement for the day.
Another kill, another gem to harvest and feathers to collect.
It was tempting to hold onto the spinner's stone. Considering the hassle gone through to obtain the blasted object, Miriam almost felt entitled to claim it as hers out of sheer annoyance and spite for the present ache in her forelimbs. The promise of finery, a far better prize, kept the urge chained. So she sucked in an angered breath, set it aside, and proceeded onward to defeathering.
A smaller bird, this did not take too long. As with the previous instance, she put the feathers together in a pile and placed the acquired stone atop. Then, hesitantly, she looked back to where her backmost coils remained dangling in the canopy.
In order to reach her other pile, she would be forced to pull herself out and navigate those branches again. Any other way would be too exhausting for a Gembound of her size.
Miriam did not bother repressing her sigh in acknowledging this. However, she would do so in the hopes these bothersome tasks wouldn't be for naught and that the materials she carried to Cepheus yielded the outcome she desired.
-Exit Miriam