The Contest

The hawk glided amongst the trees, it's feathers moist from it's recent journey through the clouds to the west. She cried out a challenge to any would-be suitors, and a warning to any that was her prey. The beautiful but deadly bird started towards her home-tree to take care of her offspring, but hesitated as a rhythmic sound vibrated across the land, making it’s way through her fragile bones. Ever curious, the mother hawk turned eastward towards the sound, towards the Stone Trees that she had played on not more than a year ago when she too was nothing but a fledgling.

The land quickly sped underneath her. Trees and streams full of life called out to her, but the mother needed to learn the answer to this curious sound. This rhythmic noise was not of nature, and so was to be mistrusted. Soon, she cried aloud as she spied the Stone Trees mighty spires as they dotted the horizon.

Her avian mind couldn't fathom the wonders of the temples that she soared above, these temples that honored both gods and men. Intricate details in both language and pictures alike brought forth a life from this otherwise lifeless stone. The meticulous care that had been bestowed on the statues was one from an age gone by, probably never to be seen again, for it was the doom of man that they never learn from the past. One part of this area was extremely crowded with ant-sized people, practically overflowing an arena below the brown and silver bird. Their voices reached the hawk now, and she cried out again, but this time with recognition.

These particular trees belong to man, the hawk mother suddenly remembered. She turned about as if to leave, but something kept her a moment longer. An image of her own mother fluttered before her, and the hawk cried out in confusion, for she vividly remembered her mother's passing. However, a feeling of peace washed over her as she flitted about the stone trees, and she felt a man touch her thoughts. That immediately startled her, but that same moment of peace persisted, and she calmed once again. Helpless, she glanced down to the huge gathering of people, and felt the strength of the thought from the man become stronger.

**"Greetings mother,"** said the man in her mind, in her language, though she was alone here in the sky.

Crying out with even more confusion, the hawk glided in a large circle . She began to see details more precise than the humans could ever possibly see, even those that were sitting down next to each other. Finally, she saw the glance of a blue-eyed man sitting by himself on a wooden pew, though there were other men sitting on the surrounding wooden benches.

"Was that you that called me 'mother', man-thing?" she cawed hesitantly back.

**"Yes, it was."** Again, only in her mind.

"Oh." Amazingly, the hawk accepted something that a person would have quite a hard time accepting. But she was simply a bird, and knew so little of the ways of man. "What is that horrible noise, man-thing?" she called back.

The man glanced around, but almost instantly knew what the hawk was asking about. **"Well,"* replied the stranger. *"The drums imitate our hearts as they beat in our bodies."**

"Why do you gather? Not for food."

**"No, for something even better. We are here to challenge ourselves, to fight!"**

"Why?" The bird persisted, ever curious. "Is it time for a new nest-chief?."

**"No,"* laughed the man. *"We are fighting for respect!"**

"Oh!" replied the hawk mother, satisfied. "Respect is good. It keeps the young in line.