She wasn’t going to make it.
She increased her speed. Wings straining with exertion, arms and talons stretched forward as far as they could go, eyes fixed on the ball descending from its upward arc. But even with all her determination, she could see she was going to miss it. Not by much, but by enough.
She made one last desperate lunge but fell short. The ball slipped by just outside her reach and landed with a thud on the stony ground.
She pulled out the brakes and skidded to a halt, throwing up a trail of dust. She slammed a fist into the ground in frustration. Not fast enough.
She was never fast enough.
“What happened?!”
Gilda jumped at the shouted question, nervously turning back to answer the approaching figure. “I’m sorry dad, I almost had it!”
Her father strode past her to pick up the ball, not even glancing her way. His carefully preened feathers shine slightly in the light of the rising sun. He finally looked down at his daughter, his beak down turned by his stern expression. “Almost just isn’t good enough Gilda.”
“Let me try again! I know I can do it, it just moves so fast-“
“Then you need to be faster!” her father roared, interrupting and startling her silent. “I don’t have time to watch you fail again, I need to work. Go home and get ready for school, maybe tomorrow you’ll actually accomplish something.”
As she watched her father leave without a backwards glance, Gilda strengthened her resolve. She would do better. She had to do better.
One day she would catch that ball.
One day she would get her father’s approval.
“Mom, I’m home!”
“I’m in the kitchen honey! Don’t forget to wipe the mud off your claws!”
Gilda cringed inwardly. She’d forgotten. Again. She quickly stepped back to wipe them and did her best to clean up the mess she’d made. It was still noticeable, but mom wouldn’t mind. She’d just clean it up properly before dad came home, like she always did.
Gilda walked into the living room and collapsed on the couch, just in time for her mother to walk in.
Carol smiled, seeing her daughter so tired after school. It showed she was working hard. But worry showed in her eyes, she was over extending herself as usual. People always said they had the same eyes, so serious all the time, unlike their personalities. “How was school?”
“Fine. Math test, gym, the usual. I made the racing team, and they might even make me this year’s captain!”
“That’s great honey, I’m so proud! How was this morning? With your father?”
Gilda didn’t have to answer. Her mother saw it in her disappointed sag. “Don’t worry, you’ll get it eventually.”
“But when?!” Gilda snapped, anger tinting her voice. “And why? Why am I not good enough for him? I’m the fastest in school! No one else would have come anywhere near as close as I did! Who cares if I can’t catch a stupid ball…” Her head drooped. “Do I really disappoint him that much?”
A single claw tilted her chin back up as her mother sat down next to her. “Your father loves you, and is more proud of you than you’ll ever know. He just expects so much of you because you’re his daughter. When he’s old and feeble, it’ll be up to you to take his place at the head of the flock.”
“But what if I can’t?”
“We’ve lead this flock for six generations. And your father has every confidence that you’ll lead for a seventh.”
Gilda burst into tears and hugged her mother tight. “Thanks mom.”
“Any time sweetie.” she hugged her back and smiled. “You know, you’re father could never catch that ball either.”
Gilda giggled, soon joined by her mother, until they both sat there laughing, still holding each other tight.
“Gilda! Wake up!”
Gilda awoke to her mother’s panicked whisper, Carol’s talons tight around her daughter’s shoulders as she shook her.
“Mom? What’s wrong?” She asked, sleepily rubbing her eyes.
“Something’s happened… We have to go. Now.”
“What’s happened? Where are we going? Where’s dad?!” Gilda struggled out of bed, her heart racing as she began to panic too.
Her mother looked away, a tear trickling through her feathers. “He’ll meet up with us later. Right now we have to leave.”
Gilda made her way to the front door but her mother stopped her. “No. The back door.”
They snuck out the back door, met by a griffon Gilda barely recognized. All she knew was he was a friend of her dad’s, and he looked just as worried as mom.
“There’s a cart waiting for you at the bottom. John hoped this wouldn’t happen, but he prepared for it nonetheless.”
Carol gave the griffon a fierce hug. “Thanks Rich. For being such a good friend.”
Rich broke the embrace and flew off into the night. That’s when Gilda noticed all the commotion. It seemed as if the whole flock was awake and flying around their mountain home. The lights were on in the other houses, and griffons flew left and right carrying torches to pierce the night.
“Come on Gilda, we have to go.” Her mother interrupted her staring and indicated for her to follow. Together they flew to the bottom of the mountain, staying in the shadows and landing just outside the central clearing.
The clearing was a mess of activity too, a large crowd gathering around something Gilda couldn’t see. She dragged her attention away and followed her mother to the partially concealed cart. It was an old wagon, and someone had moved most of their things into it sometime recently. The parts not covered with their possessions were dusty; it must have been here for years.
As Carol hitched herself up and started dragging the wagon away Gilda looked back. She never told her mother what she saw, but she always remembered.
As the cart rolled away the crowd briefly parted and Gilda saw the center of attention.
It was her father.
He’d been locked into a stock, his wings tied up, but he didn’t look scared. Even now, he looked confident and regal. And just for a moment, he met Gilda’s eyes.
They stared at each other for what seemed like hours, but were only seconds. Finally her father mouthed something.
Gilda cursed her vision and tears streamed after making out the words.
“I’m proud of you.”
And then he was gone, disappeared behind the curtain of griffons.
Years later her mother told her what happened. On the way home, he was ambushed by one of his rivals, Seth, who took control of the flock. It astounded her that no one had a problem with this, but apparently that was how it worked. You lead until someone stronger than you takes it away.
Gilda knew she would never see him again. She knew she’d never be able to go back.
But she’d always remember that he was proud of her.