Iara reluctantly opened one eye to the dazzling sunlight of mid-day. She spent the past few days trying to drown out the raucous calls of male avians in the lek site. Within her was a growing awareness that she did not want to join her brood siblings in the festivities...she was compelled to stay in her nest instead.
A cool cross breeze lifted her plumage, making her instinctively shake and fluff herself. The heat of the day was especially intense, and the sky was duller than usual. The air carried with it particles of ash, wafted from a distant fire or possibly from a fire-river-mountain.
Iara slowly rose from her nest of cycads and dried fern fronds. Bits of the fern fiddleheads stuck to her scale covered legs, and she fluffed herself again, shaking them one at a time. The prickling sensation of blood flow to her toes made her grunt grumpily.
Iara tried looking for her mentor several days ago, but gave up the search when his scent trail led her to his hideaway den. She tried to enter