Happy Holidays

We had a small little party today. Kestrel said she got Nightjar to approve it by telling him that the words "Merry Christmas" would never be uttered. She said we would sound like a political correct Wal-Mart. I asked her what she meant. She said never mind.

Anyway, we had a small party. Kestrel gave us all gift cards to Starbucks. Tern handed out bags of sunflower seeds (which we didn't really need, since we already have a whole lot). And I gave them pictures I had drawn of them. They seemed to like that. Well, Kestrel and Tern did. Nightjar just looked at his and then set it aside. He was busy drawing up some plans.

I checked in on my two targets: Target One celebrated Christmas fine. He doesn't seem quite that affected by knowledge of the Bright Ones. Target Two, on the other hand, has come down with an interesting case of paranoia. She was jittery, nervous, turning her head at every bird sound.

Nighjar just gave me a third target to keep watch on starting tomorrow.

Others

Three Bright Ones emerged from the wound. They're flying now, streaming through the air, basking in the wind. I feel an emptiness without them inside me, but I know they'll soon return.

There are others staying here with me. I think they're here to keep me focused on my task, but that's fine. It's not my place to question. I am merely a Quill, a writer.

The others are Kestrel, Tern and Nightjar. Kestrel's our Covert, the one who is good at sneaking around places. Tern is our Beak, the muscle of our flock, really. And Nightjar is the Crest, the leader. (Please note: these titles are just the ones I made up for them. They don't actually refer to themselves as such.) He gives orders, we obey. Well, sort of obey. You see, my orders come from the Bleak Shore itself, which overrides any orders Nightjar gives me. So he's a little resentful.

The Bright Ones are returning. I'd better go back inside.