And when he'd demanded to know what had happened, his father had ruffled his hair, chuckled, and said, "I think you have a new friend-and he wants to apologize for frightening you." Treyvan had apologized, and that had begun the happiest period of his life; when everything was magical and wondrous, and he had a pair of gryphons to play with.
He hadn't realized it at the time, but it hadn't entirely been play.
Treyvan and Hydona had taught him a great deal of what he knew about scouting and fighting, playing "monster" for him as they later would for their fledglings, teaching him all about dangers he had not yet seen and how to meet them.
Now he knew, though he had not then, that they had chosen the ruins deliberately, for the magic-sources that lay below them. Magic energies were beneficial for gryphon nestlings, giving them an early source of power, for gryphons were mages, too. A different kind of mage than the Tayledras, or other humans; they were instinctive mages, "earth-mages," Hydona said, using the powers about them deftly and subtly for defense and in their mating flights, for without a specific spell, a mating would not be fertile.
That was what Treyvan had meant by "you will know;" when he and Hydona flew to mate for their second clutch, any mage nearby would know very well that a spell with sexual potency was being woven.
The last time they'd risen, he'd been fourteen, and just discovering the wonders of Girls. Fortunately he had been alone, and there had been no Girls within reach...The offspring of that mating were six or seven years old now, fledged, but not flying yet, and still sub-adult.
Pretty little things, he thought to himself, with a chuckle, though the term "little" was relative. They were bigger and stronger than he was.
At fourteen he'd already acquired Vree, and the appearance of the gryphlets hadn't appalled him the way it might have. Vree had looked much scrawnier and-well-awful, right out of the egg. Lytha and Jerven were born alive, and with a reasonable set of fluff-feathers and fur-and Treyvan hadn't let him see them until their second or third day, when their eyes were open and they didn't look quite so unfinished.
The gryphons' nest was very like an ekele, but on the ground, presumably to keep the flightless gryphlets from breaking their necks. The pair had created quite an impressive shelter from stone blocks, cleverly woven vegetation, and carefully fitted logs.
As Darkwind neared it, he realized that it was bigger than it had been; it wasn't until he got close enough to measure it by eye that the difference was apparent. From without it looked almost like a tent made of stone and thatch, with a roof quite thick enough to keep out any kind of weather; it looked very much as if the gryphons had dismantled and rebuilt it, keeping the same shape with an increase in size.
He glanced in the door as Treyvan turned, a look of proprietary pride on his expressive face. Obviously he was waiting for a compliment. Inside, there were three chambers now, instead of the two Darkwind remembered; the fledglings', the adults', and a barren one, which would probably be the new nursery. The other two were basically large nests, piled deep with fragrant grasses that the pair had gathered down on the Plain, and changed periodically.
Treyvan's neck curved gracefully, and he faced his human friend eye to golden eye. "Well?" he demanded. "Whaaat do you think?"
"I think it's magnificent," Darkwind replied warmly-which was all he had time for, as the gryphlets heard and recognized his voice, and came tumbling out of their chamber in a ball of squealing fur-and feathers.
Darkwind was their favorite playmate-or plaything, sometimes he wasn't entirely certain which. But he'd used Treyvan and his mate the same way as a child, so turnabout only seemed fair.
Mostly... they tried to be careful, but they didn't always know their own strength-and they were very young. Sometimes they forgot just how long and sharp their claws and beaks were.
They hit him together, Lytha high, Jerven low, and brought him down, both shrieking in the high-pitched whistles that served the gryphons for howls of laughter.
Darkwind tried not to wince, but those whistles were enough to pierce his eardrums. I'll be glad when their voices deepen. Human children are shrill enough as it is..
Lytha grabbed the front of his tunic in her beak and "worried" it; Jerven "gnawed" his ankle. He struggled; at least they were big enough now that he didn't have to watch what he did; he could fight against them in earnest and not hurt them, provided he didn't indulge in any real, ~g blows. They seemed to have improved in their "playing" since the last time; he'd needed a new tunic when jerven got through with him. Treyvan watched them maul him indulgently for a moment, then waded in, gently separating his offspring from his friend, batting at them so that they rolled into the far corners of the chamber, shrieking happily.
Darkwind did wince.
Treyvan whistled something at them; they bounced to their feet and bounded out the door. Darkwind still wasn't fluent in Gryphon, it was a very tonal language, and hard to master; but he thought it was probably the equivalent of "Go play, Darkwind needs to talk to Mother and Father about things that will bore you to sleep." Treyvan shook his head, then turned, and settled himself into a graceful reclining curve, with his serrated, meat-rending bill even with Darkwind's chin, bare inches away, gazing into the human's face. "Your indulgenssss, old friend. They aaare veeeery young."
"I know," he replied, picking himself up off the floor, and dusting himself off. "I distinctly remember doing the same thing to you." Treyvan's beak opened in a silent laugh. "Aaaah, but I wassss ssstill thissss ssssize, and you were much ssssmaller, yesss? The damagesss were much lessss."
"I think I'll survive them," Darkwind responded. "And I owe you both for more than just being gracious about playing 'monster' for me." Treyvan shook his head. "Weee do not think of sssssuch," he said immediately. "Thissss issss what friendssss do." Darkwind remained stubbornly silent for a moment. "Whether or not you think of it, I do," he said. "You two helped me cope with Mother's death; you've been mother and father to me since. It's not something I can forget." The memory was still painful, but he thought it was healing. It certainly wouldn't have without their help.
"Sssstill," Treyvan objected. "You are uncle to the little onesss. At consssiderable perssonal damage." He shrugged. "To quote your own words," he replied wryly," 'that's what friends do." I think they're well worth indulging. So, you've obviously enlarged the nest-and it's wonderful, the new chamber doesn't look tacked-on, it looks like it was built with the original. What else are you planning to do?"
"We thought, perhapsssss, a chamber for the younglingssss to play in foul weather-" They discussed further improvements for a moment until a shadow passed over Darkwind, and he looked up at the sound of his name whistled in Gryphon-Then once again, he had to protect his eyes, as Hydona, Treyvan's mate, landed in the clearing before the nest, driving up a stronger wind with her wings than Treyvan had.
Darkwind rose to his feet to greet her. She was larger than Treyvan, and her dusty-brown coloration was a muted copy of his golden-brown feathers. There was more gray in her markings, and less black. Her eyes were the same warm, lovely gold as Treyvan's, though, and she was just as pleased to see him as her mate had been.
She nuzzled him and gripped a shoulder gently, purring loud enough to vibrate his very bones. He buried his hands in her neck-feathers and scratched the place at the back of her neck she could never reach herself; the most intimate caress possible to a gryphon, short of mating behavior.