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majingojira · 9 months

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The Logistics of Predation and Creationism

Creationism is a bur, with a lot of arguments against it, but one I favor doesn't come up much. The Logistics of Predation.

What I mean is, predators are naturally competitive with each other, as are any animals that share food sources. So, the role of 'top predator' can be in dispute.

Creationism's "All Prehistoric Animals lived at the same time" approach to biology underlines their failure to understand just how diverse and varied prehistoric animals truly were.

Illustrating that by just listing the large mainland land predators of North America down to the subfamily/family is... something that amuses me, because it just keeps getting bigger than you expect it!

Allow me:

First, we need to start with the current predators of North America:

There are Wolves and Coyotes (Genus Canis); Black, Brown, and Polar bears (Ursus), Mountain Lions (Puma), the occasional Jaguar (Panthera), the American Alligator (Alligator), and American Crocodile (Crocodylus). The smaller of these animals is 53kg on average, so we'll use that as our 'cutoff' point.

Now, Creationists have this concept called "Kinds" which they equate to the Linean concept of Family. This doesn't mean much here, as each Genus listed here is also the sole genus over 53kg in North America for that family.

Following the Geologic Column, the first step down adds the following apex predators:

Within the existing families, we get Cats (Saber-Toothed Cats, the American Cheetah, the American Lion), Dogs (Dire Wolves), and Bears (Short Faced Bears), so I won't "Count" them for this list, but they are worth a mention at least. The first new "Kind" is...

Cave Hyenas - Yeah, Hyenas made it to the Americas, but only via the polls. The animal was a subspecies of the spotted hyena, known as Crocuta crocuta spelaea. The species was found in Alaska and Northern Canada, but no further south than that.

Inside the existing families, we have: the Bone Crushing Dogs/Wargs of the Borophaginae sub-family; and the Dog-Bears of the Hemicyonidae subfamily of Bears.

The Terror Birds - Mostly known in South America from the genus Titanis, standing 2-2.5 meters (6 and 1/2 to 8ft) tall and 200kgs (440lbs) in weight, is found from Texas to Florida, and into Central America from there. It was a beast to be reckoned with that can and would peck you to death with its pickax beak and gut you with a kick -- and yes, it had a raptorial claw like a Dromaeosaur of old to make their kick that much deadlier. It could run as fast as an ostrich and its beak could crack bones.

The next "Kind" we get appears in what is known as the Cat Gap, where there were no cats in the geologic column. Instead, we had other things:

For new families, there are:

Megalictis - A ferret as heavy as a jaguar. This is the first truly large mustelid that we have in North America. Proportionally, it's like an upscaled Wolverine (this thing was almost than twice as heavy as even the heaviest Wolverine).

Amphicyonidae - The Bear-Dogs, not to be confused with the Dog-Bears. They had the long snout and tail of a dog but with heavy bodies and flat feet of a bear. There are three sub-families within North America and a LOT of species for each genus in the fossil record.

Entelodontidae - Pig-Like Omnivorous giants with the attitude of hippos. Oh, and the biggest, Daedon, was as tall as a man at the shoulder with a 3ft long skull with a bone-crushing bite. Sometimes they are called the "Terminator Pig." Though technically, they were more closely related to hippos than true pigs. So, an omnivorous land-hippo that's 6ft tall at the shoulder. Let that simmer for a bit.

Hyaenodontidae - Creodont predators unrelated to hyenas, built with heavy heads full of massive blade-like teeth. Pretty dumb all things considered, but brute force incarnate.

Barbourofelis - Despite appearances, they are not Saber-Toothed Cats. They are feliforms, but they are not felines and not part of the same line as Smilodon and its relatives. They were bulkier, dumber, and had different ear designs. But straight up? It's hard to tell them apart as a layman but is notable for having 'sheaths' for their saber teeth.

Nimravidae - Another group of "False" Saber-Toothed Cats. Shorter legs, a different inner-ear configuration is another case where it's hard to tell just from the skeleton that it's not quite a cat by a layman. The ones to count as 'top' predators in North America is limited to Hoplophoneus, Pogonodon, and Dinictis (which is just within if we round up).

Oxyaenidae - A smaller group of Creodonts, but still producing a few large predators such as the Patriofelis (90kg) and Palaeonictis (30kg). They were sort-of cat-like in appearnace (particularly Patriofelis) but were nowhere near as intelligent and more head-heavy.

Mesonychidae - Hooved Wolf/bear-like predators. The largest of these, Ankalagon, was the size of a grizzly. Other Genus include Pachyena, Mesonyx, and Harpagolestes.

Borealosuchus - A Not-Crocodile Crocodilian. Despite claims of being 'living fossils', crocodilians were an extremely diverse clade in the past. This is a link of sorts between that odd past and their present. The largest species of this could get as big as a Saltwater Crocodile.

Boverisuchus - A land-living/hunting crocodilian. It would have looked like a crocodile but with longer, straighter legs. These animals galloped like horses, even having hooves on in place of claws on their limbs. This animal could stand up on its hind legs as well. It would have been more active and dangerous than a similarly sized alligator. With slashing teeth, its bite would wound prey heavily with one bite. Its tail was also rounded and heavily armored, making it a potent defensive weapon.

From here on out, we get to the Dinosaurs.

Troodontidae - The "Brainy" dinosaurs, despite mostly being small, could get quite large. Some teeth and other remains indicate specimens between 64 and 195kg. The largest of these, the Alaskan Troodon, may be a case of polar gigantism and Island gigantism.

Tyrannosauridae - This large family of very large carnivorous dinosaurs has been split into several sub-families. North American ones include Albertosaurinae (Albertosaurus, Gorgosaurus), Daspletosaurini (Thanatotheristies, Daspletosaurus), and Tyrannosaurini (Tyrannosaurus). Outside those three are Nanuqsaurus, Teratophoneus, and Lythronax.

Tyrannosauroidea - A bit more primitive than Tyrannosuaridae, many being the ancestors of the big famous ones above. These include Dryptosaurus from New Jersey, Appalachisaurus from Alabama, and the smaller Stokesosaurus from the Jurassic period of Utah.

Carcharodontosauridae - A family of large carnivorous dinosaurs designed for ripping flesh from large targets. As big as the biggest Tyrannosaurs. This includes animals like Siats and Arcocanthosaurus.

Eudromaeosauridae - "Raptors". These ranged from coyote-sized to bear-sized. In North America, this included mostly the Dromaeosaurinae. Featuring: Yurgovuchia, Deinonychus, Utahraptor, and Dakotaraptor (unless that's an Unenlagia relative).

Azhdarchidae - A terror of the skies, Quetzalcoatlus and its relatives form a family of gigantic, giraffe-sized pterosaurs which behaved like storks. This means that they would be gobbling down things as big as people. It's 30ft+ wingspan would darken the skies and terrorize the land.

Deinosuchus - This early Alligatorid (not a true member of the family) grew to the size of Tyrannosaurs and lived mostly in saltwater/brackish conditions.

Allosauridae - The Allosaurs and its relatives. Large open-living predators of sauropods. This includes the famous Allosaurus and the gigantic Saurophaganax. It seemed to have favored the planes compared to other therapods found nearby.

Megalosauridae - Including the giant Torvosaurus. Another large carnivorous dinosaur. One of the first to be over 3 tons. More of a forest dweller, it was among the last of its kind.

Ceratosaurus - Another predatory dinosaur with a large horn on its nose. Seems to have favored wetter, forested environments.

Dilophosaurus - Notable for its distinct crest and was actually powerfully built and strong, rather than the small spitter-of-venom seen in the movies. Its crests were even more pronounced and bizarre, too.

Coelophysoidea - Slender, usually coyote-sized dinosaurs, some of them, like the wonderfully named Gojirasaurus could get quite large, over 100kgs. And, c'mon, it's Gojirasaurus! Named in honor of Godzilla! We have to include it.

And that's it for dinosaurs.

Postosuchus - An early attempt to make something like a carnivorous dinosaur, but from a more crocodilian base. Heavy head, powerful hind legs, but not quite the same thing. Scalier, bulkier, dumber, less agile. Still, something to be feared.

Ctenosauriscidae - Another "Croc Trying the Dinosaur Thing" Family that didn't survive the Triassic. These animals had large sails on their backs like Dimetrodon. Arizonasaurus is the only genus known from North America.

Poposauridae - Really good "Dinosaur" mimicking Crocodilian-line archosaurs. Some were mistaken as dinosaurs at first, but we figured the differences out with more fossils. The best-studied of these is Poposaurus, which looked like a stereotypical carnivorous dinosaur, but with more fingers, more scales, and different ankles/hips.

Phytosauridae - Fake Crocodiles. They are archosaurs, but not Crocodiles in any other sense other than the niche they fill. The key difference is the placement of the nostrils. Some of these could get HUGE too. Brachysuchus, Centemodon, Leptosuchus, Machaeroprosopus, Pravusuchus, Protome, Redondasaurus, Rutiodon, Smilosuchus, Smilosuchus, Wannia, and Angistorhinus are known genera.

Temnospondyli - A large group of amphibians, technically a sub-class, but to the layman, these are all "Crocomanders" - amphibians filling in the crocodile-niche. On average, they were crocodile-sized and shaped. Only a few bucked that trend, such as Eryops, whose squat body made it very frog-like in appearance. These included multiple families of large predatory amphibians: Tupilakosauridae, Eryopidae, Metoposauridae, and Brachyopidae. Tupilakosaurs were like big mudpuppies or modern giant salamanders. Eryipids were more rounded, like frogs with tails, only as long as a man. Their jaws were more alligator-like, but with extra teeth in the roof of their mouth for added damage. Metoposaurs were among the most commonly found in certain environments, with flat, rounded, triangular heads and salamander-y bodies. Brachyoopids had shorter, boxier heads and were flatter overall.

From here we leave the Mesozoic and go to the Permian. Records of North America in this section of the column are... incomplete. The last era of it is utterly missing for land vertebrates. So, we don't have records of fun things like Gorgonopsids.

We have:

Steppesaurus - This animal is controversial. It may be a Sphenacodontid, but it has also been classified as Phthinosuchid, but that is controversial given how old it is. We may never know what it was, but it was BIG for its time.

Varanopidae - Named after Monitor lizards, they are closer to mammals than to their namesake. The largest of these could be the size of a Komodo Dragon, but more active.

Sphenacodontidae - Here we get something people will recognize again: Dimetrodon, but it also includes predators like Ctenorhachis, Sphenacodon, Secodontosaurus, and Ctenospondylus. Some had sails on their back like dimetrodon, some had a half sail, and some had no sail at all. They all had early differentiated teeth. Dimetrodon is of particular note given how many species there were (19 of them lived in North America), ranging in size from that of a lion to that of a house cat (D. natalis).

After that, there are smaller predators of note (such as seagull-sized dragonflies) but none meet our definitions for apex predator in terms of mass and habitat.

So, with bringing it down to the Family level, that still leaves 39 Large Carnivores running around at the same time. Even on the same continent, this is an absurd number of carnivorous animals! Imagine trying to get a drink with all that to be alert for!

And that is just one of the many reasons why creationism is absurd.

#Dinosaurs #Paleontology #Creationism

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kalon12 · 7 years

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Message of Change

Raising my muzzle to the air I catch the strong scent of grease, metal, humans, and huisdiers. My hackles rising as I crouch next to a sabre-toothed cat, a pack mate, waiting for the signal. Unable to resist my mouth pulls back in what humans call a ‘sneer’, really humans are conceited and hateful, the quietest of growls mixing with the panting and breathing of the others. My ears turn as I hear the roar of the Velus, a Barbary lion and alpha of the pack, in the wild language, unmixed with human taint that invaded when they forced these vertaler collars around our necks.

Shuddering briefly with the pleasure of that wild sound I leap up and race down the ridge we had been waiting upon, a howl leaving my muzzle, filled with the joy of the hunt and a call for my group. A giant Teratorn glides down to my shoulder, his wings ruffling my grey and brown fur as he speaks a message from Velus, a slight croak in his voice, “Botolf, my lieutenant, you are to take the northern quarter for your mates are the fastest and can reach there before any human dares to leave.” A nod of understanding and the Teratorn leaves to inform Velus of my acceptance. A wild glee and hunting rage again enters me as I howl, sadly with the human taint, “We go north!”

The sabre from earlier falls at my right shoulder and a fellow dire wolf, though smaller than I, at my left, the rest my quarter falling behind in a typical vanguard style. Mammoths, aurochs, sabre-toothed, barbourofelis, cave hyenas, homotherium, and others, pound the short, cropped grass that’s tipped with frost. Cries of the hunt, of anger, and of rage, fill the air from all corners.

We race around the city towards the farthest edge, steadily pulling away from the crowd of the pack. The sabre-tooth next to me cries out, his fangs glistening in the late afternoon sunlight, his collar creaking in the cooling air against his hot body. Soon the cries of human terror fill the air around us and a red glaze falls over my amber eyes, my thick, grey, winter fur streaming behind me as we cut off the final route of the humans escape.

A twitch of my ear, a flick of my tail, and my hackles rising spreads my quarter out around me. I race forward with a silent command for my fellow dire and for the sabre to stay behind and guard the exit in the shadows as I go forth, hungry for the blood of humans upon my fangs.

I hear the low growl of a huisdier to my left, a zanzibar leopard with a clean vertaler collar wrapped around its spotted fur. My ears whip about as another sound follows underneath that low growl. Pinpointing it I stare into the shadows behind the zanzibar to see a rich mistress pressed against the wall in fear.

My eyes return to meet with the deep brown eyes of her obvious huisdier. That despicable domestication of that which once was, and still should be, purely wild. In those eyes I can find emotions swirling in their depths. Obviously there’s anger, because hey!, I invaded her, yes her, territory, I find fear, well why shouldn’t she fear? I’m far more powerful than her, and then I find some unnameable emotion. Is it that thing called ‘protective’? Towards whom? That cowering human dressed in frills and a sickly sweet scent?

Unable to hold the question back I speak, my words coming through my vertaler collar, a simple black strip of leather and steel that quivers as my vocal chords shape ideas into being, “What is a proud zanzibar leopard such as you feeling so protective of? This territory? There’s so much better than here.” My deep bass is calming from the earlier blood lust and rage and falling into simple query.

Her response is a rumbling alto, obviously forced through that continuous growl, “I would never expect you to understand. You, who does not understand the gift that the Dutch have given us you Woesteling! You may call us huisdiers, but you have not learned, you have not seen, you have not understood those gifts that the humans gave us!.”

Snarling my vision is again tinged with red, my hackles rising at the insult that a meager human could possibly give us anything, “What ‘gifts’? All they have done that I could consider a gift at all is returning us to life! For giving us enough intelligence to overthrow their overbearing fist. That is all! Even those are flawed though. Our lives are, at most, ten years even for the hardiest of us. Most only live until they are, maybe, six years. I’m a pup of one year and considered to be in my prime! The intelligence they gave us is eroding our own knowledge of our inherent instincts, our very lives!”

As I spoke I noticed her lips pulling back into a vicious snarl. Slowly her brown eyes narrowed at me and when I stopped she could barely speak, “You ignorant little pup. That ‘flawed’ knowledge that is ‘eroding’ our instincts is merely because you yourself are choosing to ignore them, not because of the added knowledge. Our thousands of years of existence cannot be erased in a mere 200. That shortened life span is simply because the older generations had yet to adapt to this new world. Now that they have begun adapting you, who are but a pup, and others likely you will soon begin to far outlive even our ancestors!”

Growling I give my name, as is proper for a fight that was to begin, “I am Botolf. You have angered me and in the name of pack and freedom I shall fight you and then kill your mistress!” Charging forward I swung out a great, grey speckled paw, catching the zanzibar off guard and leaving great, bloody gashes in her left shoulder.

Her recovery is swift. Even as she limps off of her left front leg she charges at me, her claws unsheathed, her fangs bared. It becomes a blur. Charge, swipe, leap, snap, grapple, fall, wrestle, scratch, nick, and bite. Minutes later, though it feels like so much longer, I rise, blood coating my grey and black coat. Mine and hers. She was little of a match, barely able to scrape through my winter pelt, but she left an impression, and, now that I can take stock, some scratches that drip steadily, slowly, on the fresh snow. When had the snow started to fall? I don’t know anymore. Shaking my head I turn to pounce on the little human, only to find her running towards the zanzibar and I. Shocked I can only stay still as she falls to her knees and hugs the great, once proud, head. The iron scent cooling on its fur, on her hands, and on her clothes, fills my nose. The little human female’s tears fill my nose with the added scent of salt while her sobs manage to block out the crazed sounds of the battle that had always been a constant background. My mind, locking onto the scene of a human truly mourning for a huisdier. A lowly pet.

Backing away I turn back to the north. Through my quarter pack even as howls, growls, and cries follow my race. All I can really hear is the pounding of my heart, the pounding of my paws, my heavy breathing, and my own overwhelming thoughts that are all jumbled and nonsensical. The cracking as my world slowly tries to shatter. Suddenly I hear a howl. It sounds like mourning. Mourning for what? Why is it following me? Then I realize, even as I collapse in a hollow tree, the snow falling heavily outside, my breath pluming in the air, that it was my howl. A howl of mourning for those that I never thought I would kill. A mourning for my own comfortable world dying.

As night falls I try to run from my own thoughts even as they pursue me. But some never leave. Memories of my old bezitters. Memories of screaming humans as I ripped their throats. The fresh, blood stained, the memory of that little human mistress, crying over a cooling, bleeding, huisdier body. None of them leave me alone. Yet somehow I sleep. A deep sleep, pitted with memories revisiting me even in my sleep. A small redhead young woman running with me as a pup, her hair pulled back in a ponytail even as it tries to escape. Her laughter, pulling my face into the closest I could come to a smile. Tumbling through the grass and water with her small hands always close to my fur. A young man, black haired and serious, but with a boisterous laugh and a small smile, never far behind. Days spent napping in the sun. The young woman curled tight against me, the young man just to the side, a tail sweep away.

Waking I blink my eyes and shake my head of the fuzzy memories that fade as I stand and walk out into the fresh layer of sparkling snow. The occasional track of a deer or some other creature running through it. I shake my body, ridding myself of the last vestiges of sleep and put my nose to the snow, hoping to find a scent for some food. Nine months of no hunting is making the search for the food a little difficult, but not horrible. Soon enough the chase is done and I have breakfast steaming in my mouth. The blood, a sharp, metallic tang in my mouth, the blood ringing my muzzle and my paws.

After I eat I find a river and wash off the blood. Once all of that’s done I race through the forest towards what I roughly recall as being northern Maine. My mind fuzzy and ignoring my thoughts until I hear a scream and I register the normal scents and sounds that are accompanied by a human residence.

Curiously I move cautiously towards the scream, my ears pricked forward, the sound of paws crunching the snow, and the sound of cloth scraping against uneven snow. I come upon the scene undetected, but still myself behind a thick, evergreen, bush, my eyes peering through a small break. What meets my eyes is an obviously mated pair of normal wolves, collared, pushing a small human female against the trunk of a tree. The human female is what, somehow, manages to catch my attention.

Even after the changes that time and change has wrought, I still recognize her. The red hair messily pulled back in that ponytail. I can’t help it, I growl. At that growl the male of the pair twists towards me, his eyes narrowing. Seeing no way out I stand, my size augmented through genetic engineering making my species closer to the old human ideas of a dire wolf.

Stepping around the bush I face the mated pair and growl, no thoughts of using the human language in my mind. All I can remember are sunlight afternoon naps and laughter. My mind focused on the protection of this human I ran away from so many moons ago. The smaller female circles behind me, her breathing harsh, her paws breaking the snow. Her mate stays in front of me, crouched, ready to leap at my throat.

A howl claws up my throat. An intense call for blood bursts from my lips and the fight begins.

It’s a blur. Grey blobs of fur fly at me as I rip, tear, claw, bite, and shake. Blood flies from wounds ripped open. The heat of the fresh steaming in the cold winter air. A sting on my side alerts me to an annoyance. I reach around and rip out the throat of it and hear a call of rage from my other side and I feel a sharp dig into my gut, a fall of blood from the wound. I bark at the nuisance and a spray of blood flies from my mouth, onto the matted fur of the male wolf.

The wolf comes to face me, its eyes livid with anger. Blood bubbles up my throat and I swallow the heat back down. Time slows and I see the bunching leg muscles, the leap, and my paw reaching out to send him flying into a far tree, breaking his neck and spine. Stepping over the female I reach a paw down and rip out his throat, at least giving him a quick death.

Then I collapse and the world turns to black as blood joins foam and turns it pink. The last memory before sound leaves and and I fall into exhaustion is broken snow and a soft voice yelling out, “Botolf! Henrick! Come quickly!”

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When I wake the first thing I notice is the scents and sounds that are invading my ears and nose. I hear laughter, playful growls, calm snoring, gentle breathing, pawing hooves, shifting snow, and voices. I smell sweat, fur, meat, grazing land, straw, and other unnameable scents that I can’t recognize.

Slowly I manage to blink my eyes open to be greeted with a dimly lit stable like area. Light wood planks make up the walls and an open door leads to what I can hear. Below me I can see that I was laying upon clean straw and near to the door is a pile of fresh meat. I slowly stand and notice a tugging around my ribs. My eyes slide over the the sensation to find white linen wrappings, slightly stained with blood. I huff and ignore it, moving towards the food and clear water sitting next to it.

Once done I slowly, for while I might ignore the injuries I’m not stupid enough to aggravate them, I move out of the stable area and down a dirt packed hall to the light at the end that makes my eyes squint as they adjust. As I enter the area I am greeted by the happy cries of a human somewhere to my left. Turning my head I notice the wild red hair and snort, she certainly hadn’t changed. I walk slowly towards her, my disdain and hatred of humans not diminished. But it was likely that she was the one to have wrapped my wounds, therefore she deserved some sort of respect.

Surrounding her was a herd of aurochs, their horns wickedly sharp and gleaming in the winter sunlight as they grazed. A little farther off the the black haired man, Henrick as I recall, is surrounded by various dozing big and small cats, a book in his hand as he glances up, nods, and returns to his reading. As I reach the herd the girl moves through them so that I need not try odd contortions to get through. Once she reaches me I speak, “I thank you for caring for my injuries, however once they are healed I must return to my duties outside of this place.” Her bright smile dims just a little bit her voice a gentle soprano, “I suppose I can’t argue against that.” Suddenly her smile brightens once more, “You do remember me, right Botolf?”

I huff out a breath, slightly painful in my current state, but no problem. “How could I not remember you, Angelien? After all your Father was my bezitter for some time.”

Her already bright smile somehow manages to brighten even more. “I’m so glad! I was worried that you would have forgotten me what with how you seem to have changed.” I shake my head and walk off towards some other dire wolves, Angelien skipping next to me, humming quietly.

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Weeks then months pass. I’ve grown used to the atmosphere of this place called Het Heiligdom. Sometimes I lay next to Henrick as he reads, I’ve even been learning how to read the human language of ‘English’. Sometimes I run, wrestle, and hunt with some of the others. It means I’ve kept in shape even as my wounds were healing. Most of the time though I’m helping Angelien. The child of my old bezitter. I should be bitter, but I no longer seem to hate humans. On the day I turned two I met many more of the humans that help run Het Heiligdom. That was when I realized that I couldn’t truly hate them any more. I was learning what that zanzibar leopard was trying to say.

Other things have changed as well. Before, in the pack, I was apparently kept undernourished, so since I now have steady and healthy food stream I have grown much larger than most of the dire wolves I have seen in the pack and even some here. At my shoulder I now stand at the height of a bull auroch with full grown horns. Apparently the dires I was bred from had stronger ties to the original genetic mutation that allowed us to be larger than our ancestors.

So I’m laying in the sun, Spring air ruffling my fur, surrounded by others that I once would have called huisdiers, calmer than I have been in months. When my ears swivel to a crash in the direction of the entrance. Near where I woke up months ago. I’m on my feet in moments as my paws pound towards the sound. I recall hearing Angelien and Henrick telling us that they would be coming back today with some new trustworthy people and their revived ones. From the shouts I can now hear I’m pretty sure that we’ve been betrayed. On my next step I can feel myself stretch my legs to their full limit, pulling me far ahead of the rest of the residents of Het Heiligdom.

As I see Angelien’s red hair flying as she runs towards the center, towards safety, I can feel a new desire rise in my barrel chest. My hackles rising and a protective howl of my heart’s home bursts forth. Bursting into the fray my paw sweeps one of the attacking humans away from a stable with a young oribi and its mother. Once more my mind reaches inside and easily rediscovers that bloodlust that’s never too far from the surface as I charge the attackers.

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I stand still, my lungs pulling in great heaving breaths as the last of the attackers leaves Het Heiligdom. As the door shuts behind them I turn to face Angelien and Hendrick and all of the others that had joined the fight. Pulling in a great breath I speak, “As soon as Het Heiligdom is repaired I must leave. My duty is calling to me.”

Angelien’s bright eyes close and then open as she looks into my eyes, “I can’t stop you can I?”

I nod my head in a gentle acquiescence as Hendrick looks at me more determined than I have ever seen him. His voice rings out, a pleasing stream that can calm anybody down, “I am going with you, Botolf.”

I can’t help but smile at that, “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Hendrick.” With Hendrick’s statement many others of Heiligdom state their claim to come with me, as if they somehow know my purpose without speaking. Perhaps they do.

After the week of chaos and laughter that was repairing Het Heiligdom I and my fellows stand at the gate that leads into the bright sunshine. Hendrick is sitting on my back, a réunion kestrel, a friend he raised from its birth, sits on his shoulder. More birds circle the sky above us and a wilder variety of revived and common ones file around us. Facing Angelien I bow and utter a simple sentence, “The world shall change.” She smiles and shooes me away with a laugh. With a smile I comply and turn around. With a howl I race, my pack behind me.

#KalWriting #KalSS #short story

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