Birds Of Prey の小説・ストーリー

Another beautiful day in New York, everyone in the city was so busy doing one thing or the other— you could see people rushing somewhere up and down on Broadway, the tall buildings and large screens are always a spectacular view. Ryan was driving amongst the drivers who were all in a hurry to get to their destinations. Ryan drove past the sky scrapers and the streets on Broadway in his navy blue sports Range Rover car— enjoying a playlist of juice wrld's songs. Though it was going to be another stressful day at work for the young man, he could at least enjoy his ride to work.

Van Dranen barked and I ducked as a shot of bullet cracked against the trunk. "They're with guns? What is this? It's clear they're trying to kill us but why?" Olive's voice was getting inaudible as I kept pressing down on the wound trying to stop the blood from leaking out. The SUV on the left swerved, trying to force them into a divider. Van Dranen yanked the wheel again, clipping the enemy car's front bumper. The driver lost control for a split second—long enough for Van Dranen to slam the brakes, letting the SUV shoot past before accelerating again.

And then the sky came alive. A flock of large, silver-winged hawks burst from the atmosphere, their wings slicing through the mist, catching the sunlight like liquid metal. They dove and soared in perfect synchrony, their calls echoing across the valley. Storme’s lips parted slightly. “I’ve never seen them this close before.” “They don’t trust many, especially humans,” I said, watching her as she watched them. “But if you stand still long enough…” I held her hand and stretched it out towards the birds.

“Most birds on the planet are in constant conflict with each other. The war colleges study them to help refine battlefield strategies. They keep their eyes most on the Ventrii because, well, they’re dominating the skies.” “For example,” said Doreth, “they fly in coordinated wings and perform surgical strikes on enemy nests. Usually against the young or unhatched. This prevents their enemies from repopulating effectively. And in comparison, their nest defense is legendary. Their coordinated attacks easily fend off predators much larger than Avicii.” “So these birds win against all others through tactics and strategy?” asked Miko. “This sounds like a perfect synergy to me.” “Very much so,” sai

"Please, just let him go." She didn't have a gun. She didn't have a sword. She had a whistle. She put it to her lips and blew. SCREEEEEEEE. The sound was lost in the thunder for human ears. But high above, in the swirling vortex of the storm, the flock heard it. The Carrion Birds. Mutated by generations of chemical runoff and atmospheric toxins, these weren't normal vultures. They were aggressive, blind scavengers that hunted by sound and the scent of necrotic tissue. And right now, the roof of the Sterling Tower smelled like the biggest buffet in New York.

Elder Matthias' presence loomed just behind us, a solid force of age-old wisdom bracing against the unknown. As one, our heads tilted back, our collective gaze fixing on the spectacle unfolding above. Wicked birds, myriad and menacing, filled the sky, their black feathers absorbing the last vestiges of light. These were no ordinary creatures; their eyes were like shards of obsidian, piercing through the gloom with malevolent intent. They circled in a chaotic pattern, a maelstrom of wings and screeches that tore at the fabric of serenity which had once blanketed our realm.

Careful. Then the other one started climbing too. Both of them. Climbing toward me. "Please be careful," I whispered. "Please don't fall." The baby birds had finished their meal. They huddled together in the center of the nest, making soft chirping sounds. Content. Full. I looked at them, really looked at them. They were kind of... cute. In a terrifying, oversized way. Just babies. Just hungry babies who didn't know any better. This wasn't their fault. They hadn't asked to be born in a nest on a cliff. Hadn't asked for a mother who hunted strange prey.

Sarah watched the Red Tailed Hawk soar high above the trees and then laughed when the tiny little black birds swarmed it to chase it away from their nest. It was so wild here. Like a wilderness preserve. But that was on the other side of town. This was privately owned, by the pack. She looked out over the ridge and could see for miles. Deer dotted the hillsides. She wondered just how far out the pack owned. "Does it all belong to the pack? As far as I can see?"

The bird soars high above them, and then suddenly, it dives towards the ground at an incredible speed. Rita and Hope watch in amazement as the falcon swoops down and snatches a small animal from the ground. Naim explains that this is how falcons hunt, and they're incredibly skilled at it. Naim then shows Rita and Hope some of the other skills that falcons have, such as tracking and endurance. The falconer also teaches them about the different types of falcons and the history of falconry in the region. They're impressed by the falcons' intelligence and their close bond with their handlers.

Within moments, a group of six big birds appeared, their wings dark against the starlit sky. "Create a distraction," I whispered to them. "Nothing dangerous, just enough noise and movement to buy me some time." The ravens cawed their understanding and dove toward the approaching wolves, swooping and calling in a way designed to confuse and disorient. But instead of the usual result – wolves backing off or at least slowing down – these strangers seemed completely unaffected by the bird attack.