Beach Time! Scavenge: Chapter 1

    The coastline was beautiful.

 

    Blue turned to white as the water lapped against the sand. The bright sun of day glimmered off the surface of the water, choppier the further it went out to sea. The chittering of birds in the trees along the shoreline paired nicely with the gentle sloshing of the water. Scattered insects also made their voices heard, buzzing and chirping in the lush foliage of late spring. The sand was a brilliant white-beige where the sun had dried it, the moistened sand looking a much more mild beige. Shells, stones, flotsam and uprooted water plants were scattered across the ground. No one else was on the beach as far as anyone could see; they were alone. It was peaceful.

 

    Four stryx found themselves at the beach on this stunning afternoon. Numali, a large, black-streaked gryph with a brilliantly white underbelly, was picking at shells on the shore. She tilted her head to get a good look at white clamshell, gentle brown eyes glistening in the sun. After a moment of thought she grabbed it carefully in her beak and walked back up the shore to a bag, dropping it inside. The bag was a nearly-new brown leather, sewn together with thick white thread. It was shaped like a duffel but was notably larger - a good size for a tyto to carry.

 

    Randall - a brown tyto with stars along his coat and framed by black feathers - was also dropping off a shell in the bag. He carried a conch uncomfortably in his beak. The shell had all kinds of knobs and bumps on its surface.  It took him a moment to place him into the bag without breaking it or setting it on another, more delicate shell.

 

    Bard and Icon were still down on the shore. They walked over the dense, wet sand, eyes constantly scanning where the waves met the ground for interesting shapes. Bard grimaced every time the waves washed over his feet with frigid water. The blue tyto was fluffed up with displeasure, giving the appearance of a ragged blue marshmallow walking as if it was on stilts. 

 

    Achilles - a human being - had also accompanied them to the coast. He was a large man, dressed head to toe in black with a black bandana covering his face. The man stood over the bag of shells, marking down something in a notebook every time one of the stryx brought something new to it. It was a warm day, but a cool breeze came in off the sea. Achilles, however, never took off his bandanna.

 

    Bard plucked some driftwood out of the water and chucked it onto the shore unceremoniously. His face scrunched as the taste hit his tongue. Fed up, he ran onto dry land with his wings over his head, frantically trying to remove the taste from his mouth. Randall and Numali watched as he whizzed by. Numali couldn’t stifle a chuckle and shook her head.

 

    “Poor thing.” Numali furrowed her brow but couldn’t help but smile. “Picking through what the ocean gives us can be… …. Distressing.”

 

    “He’s being dramatic.” Randall snorted. He dismissed Bard with a wave of his wing. “Come on. Maybe we can find some crustaceans.”

 

    “I’d like that.” Numali walked with him back down to the shore, stopping just short of where Icon was fishing around. She looked up as they approached, a piece of seaweed discarded by the ocean hanging from her beak. Icon didn’t seem bothered by the obvious slick texture of the plant and grinned at the two of them.

 

    “How goes the search?” She pipped around the seaweed in her mouth. “I keep finding weeds. I’m getting bored.”

 

    “Maybe you could look through the shells awhile?” Randall suggested, sparing another glance at Bard’s ridiculous flailing around inland.

 

    “Maybe.” Icon shrugged. “Or…”

 

    A devilish glint shined in her eyes. By the time Randall knew what was happening it was too late. He stumbled backwards as a long, slimy weed slapped into his face. The tyto squawked and turned into an enormous startled fluff. Numali didn’t skip a beat. The gryph shoved her foot into the water and flicked it towards Icon, showering her with cold seawater. Icon burst into laughter and took wing. With a powerful flap she landed ten or so paces away. 

 

    Numali wouldn’t let her get away that easily. The gryph, though small for her size still larger than Icon, charged down the shoreline. Randall hollered as he was inadvertently caught in a large splash. In a desperate maneuver Icon picked up a shell and chucked it at Numali, harmlessly bouncing it off her head. The gryph did a leap into the shallows, knocking Icon off her feet with a swoosh of water. Numali stopped in concern as she realized Icon went underwater - but Icon resurfaced almost immediately and resumed kicking water at her fellow stryx.

 

    Achilles ran towards them but stopped before he went into the water, picking up the slimy wood Bard had dropped and literally shaking a stick at Numali and Icon. The man’s words were muffled and slurred, not much coherent coming from him.

 

    By the time the two stryx stopped flailing at each other each one had clumps of wet feathers all over them. They looked like complete and utter messes. Their coats were darkened by the water and appeared ragged, down showing through in places the outer feathers were disturbed. Achilles had long since abandoned his stick and resumed combing the beach with Randall. He wasn't particularly good at searching - or stopping two stryx from horsing around - but he did his best. Bard only came down to continue his search for sea goodies when both Icon and Numali had promised to stop splashing water everywhere. Once he was focused up Bard did a significantly better job, even if he was a wuss about being wet.

 

    “I had no idea you were such a spoilsport.” Icon bumped him with a wing. Bard stared sourly at her.

 

    “Hey, come on now,” Numali said as she walked past the two of them to go further down the beach, “it’s not his fault he’s no fun.”

 

    Bard once again fluffed himself into a rage-orb. Icon couldn’t avoid laughing at him. 

 

    “Take it easy, she’s just messing with you.”

 

    The bounty the sea offered up today wasn’t particularly exciting - mostly shells and seaweed with the odd bit of flotsam - but it offered a lot of it. By the time the day was shifting to evening and the air turned cooler they had a full bag of the stuff. Shells of all shapes and kinds shined in the light of the evening sun. Seaweed was neatly wrapped in some thin maps for transport. They would be dried when they returned to camp. They had tied the sturdiest driftwood together in a pack for transport and slung it onto Bard’s back. Randall carried a particularly large shell he was proud of finding, while Numali carried a jar of small, perfectly rounded stones. Icon found herself carrying the large bag on her own back.

 

    With a successful day of scavenging, the five of them - including Achilles - made it home before the sun set.