Snippet #2655109

Rooke continued to fly at high speeds, ripping through the air. The wind blew back his cropped hair, and if he opened his mouth his cheeks would be forced to puff out. He was luckily ably to keep his eyes mostly closed so he could see with no problem. Twisting and turning around other flying animals, He staked out the ground, occasionally looking up. It didn't take him long to find a camp, smoke rising from a speck of fire down below on the ground. Rookes eyes lit up, not knowing that it was the hunting camp Tyson was warning Alek about. Rooke was just about to look up to make sure nothing was coming at him when suddenly there was a searing pain in his right shoulder. He let out a pained scream, hearing a cracking and splattering noise. Out of reflex his wings folded in, against his back, as he looked at his shoulder. Bird feathers, that weren't his, poured from his shoulder as well as bird parts, and blood. His eyes watered knowing that under all the bird bones and guts was probably deep puncture wounds. His entire body had stiffened, and his mind instantly focused on the shoulder wound. He wasn't paying attention to flying, or should we say falling? His wings refused to stretch out once again, and he quickly plummeted to the ground.

Feeling the air around him change directions Rooke was pulled away from the blood right as a tree was coming at his face. He gasped, and instantly spread out his wings. His feet jolted forward as his torso jolted back. Instead of his face hitting first it was now his abdomen. Rooke grunted in pain as he crashed through thick branches and leaves before slamming into something hard. If it wasn't for the blanket and pillow in his duffle back, which his upper torso slammed against, his head would of been split open. Rooke had blacked out, and when he slammed against a tree, 100 feet up in the air, then fell and landed on his stomach he had woken up. Body screaming in pain Rooke groaned, and his eyes poured tears out uncontrollably. Amazingly nothing was broken, but he knew his shoulder, and left side were badly punctured and gashed. The young, stupid feeling boy slowly lifted himself up. He slowly pealed the duffle back off his chest and over his head, wincing and sucking in through his teeth.

He looked at his shoulder, slowly reaching over and clearing off all the feathers and guts that covered his shoulder. Unfortunately Rooke was out of luck in the injury department. 2 bones of the bird had managed to completely blow through his shoulder, he assumed a beak and probably a rib, and about 5 other tiny, hollow bones jutted out from his shoulder. He continued to cry and whimper, refusing to move his right arm now, afraid there will be impossibly more pain. "God this was a stupid idea," Rooke whimpered, his bottom lip quivering. He could now feel the stings of tiny cuts all over his face. His lip was split, and fat, and one of his eyes was starting to swell shut. He looked down at his bloody shirt with his good eye, and slowly lifted his shirt up. There was a massive bruise on his left side, as well as gashes. Rooke fell back on his hutches in defeat, looking back at his wings. Chunks of feathers were missing, and one of them had a deep gash on the meat, right where the feathers met his skin. "God what will the others think?" He couldn't help but ask. Embarrassment and sadness swelled in his chest as his throat started to burn, and his face got hot. The embarrassment and sadness didn't last long, however, because his head shot up upon hearing voices and the snapping of twigs. His eye went wide upon realizing his injuries were the last of his problems.