A sound that sends shivers down your spine reverberates from the distance. The squawk of a bird. You briefly wonder if it could be something like a Torchic, but you find that hard to believe. This sound did not come from the direction of the farm. It came from the treeline. You quickly turn towards the source of the noise. The grass obstructs your vision nearly as much as it does your movement. Even your view of the trees is partly obstructed. You briefly wonder if the squawk could have come from something too low on the trees for you to spot. Your initial hunch is decisively disproven when you spot a Staravia confidently scooting over to the edge of a perch, perhaps eager to prove itself to its peers. Or maybe just eager to get a meal.
The Staravia beats its wings against the air twice before leaping off of its branch and soaring upwards. It begins to flap its wings firmly as it flies at a near hover, turning its head to scan the farmlands below for foodstuff. Foodstuff such as you. Your heartrate spikes as you realize the immense disadvantage you find yourself in. The grass me provide you with some visual cover, but it is nowhere near adequate to hide you from an onlooker hovering above. You quickly realize that you're going to need to find better shelter... but what?
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