Into the Mist

My eyes shot open. My body tensed. I am eye to eye with an unwanted visitor.

A large bird jerks his head back and forth trying to get a good look at me. I lift my body off the warm grass and lean my back up against the tree shading me.

The bird only steps closer to investigate me. He has a razor sharp beak, long bark colored feathers and scrawny talons. He tilts his head at me then grabs my pant leg with his beak, tugging on it.

Out of the mist rising from the nearby pond came a man wearing a leather trench coat. His face was draped in trendles of auburn hair and a beard that rested in chaotic knots.

He looked me in the eye and in a high pitched tone, let out a long whistle calling the hawk to land on his arm.

He spoke to me in a language that was nothing close to any spoken language I have heard before. His tone was curt and untamed. For a moment, I could have sworn his eyes glowed green. The hawk let out an ear piercing screech and settled onto the mans arm. Just as soon as he had appeared he drifted back into the mist from where he had come.

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