Mild and spicy

Lyra skipped over flowering hillsides, inspecting the unfamiliar flora of the highlands. The sun was high and bright, promising good weather and lifting the pachy’s mood in an instant. One would think the nearby peaks of the island’s volcanoes would spread some of its warmth over neighbouring hillsides, but the higher altitude still made her feathers bristle with the cold air brushing against her coat.

“Pay attention, Lyra,” the herd’s elder had said that morning before her departure. “The highlands are no place to be careless. We’re strangers in this territory. Even the plants here are foreign- Some will fill your belly, but others might as well stop your heart.”

Young Lyra, thinking the elder’s words were a little extreme, had waved her off with a flick of her tail. She’s always been cautious and eager to learn; she can figure it out on her own. Now alone, pacing the highland meadow, she was left indecisive what to try and nibble on first.

The meadow, nestled between the volcano's peaks, was alive with color. Yellow blossoms, blue berries, and rich green foliage stretched as far as Lyra could see and smell. She’s used to recognizing many plants by their scent, texture, and taste. If something smells and tastes bad she’ll just spit it out or not try it in the first place. There’s no harm in trying new things, maybe she’ll find her next favourite snack.

Stopping in her stride to sniff at a cluster of purple flowers, Lyra wondered if there are plants no animal has tried before yet. Maybe she’s the first one to try one or the other plant, and for that alone she’d love to share her findings once she rejoins her herd.

Touching the flowers’ leaves with her nose, she noticed they felt smooth and glossy. The violet blooms smelled incredibly sweet, it made her mouth water. Her instincts whispered caution, but her curiosity and drive to learn new experiences pushed her to try a bite. Just as he was about to taste a single bloom, a sharp squawk startled her.

Lyra whipped her head up towards the noise and found a dark Tapejara perched on a nearby bush. His sudden appearance prompted her to take a generous step back. The stranger looked mangled, scars covering most of his head and neck, even a piece of his beak missing.

“Do you have a death wish?” the tapejara croaked. His voice was rough and husky, no doubt a consequence of his past injuries. “Foxglove will make your heart weary and weak. Even at your size it may be fatal.” 

“Oh- Thank you!” Lyra thanked him without missing a beat. Taking another step back, she faced him. “That would’ve been terrible, although I wasn’t going to eat that much. I- uh. I am just exploring and learning! My herd never moved this high up, the flora isn’t that familiar to most.”

The tapejara let out what was meant to be a thoughtful hum, but came out as a strained groan. “If your whole herd is as bold as you, trying strange new plants, you might not last long. You’d need a guide.”

“And you’re the one to guide me?” Lyra chirped, now full of energy at the promise of a teacher to learn from. Looking at the flighted reptile expectantly, occasionally glancing at the bright crest of his rather than his scars, she was met with a blank expression.

Squinting at her with his only working eye, Orchid mulled over her question. He kind of backed himself in a social corner and now he felt obligated to accept. “I already started this conversation as such, didn’t I? I see no harm educating you for the time being.”

With a delighted gasp, even before Orchid fully finished his sentence, she leapt into the air. Excited to try (or not try) all the plants she doesn’t recognise yet in a safe and educational manner filled her with a sort of electricity, springing her muscles into action. 

A few paces away and a brief introduction later, Lyra found a patch of lush bushes with bright yellow, pointy fruit dangling off its stems. They didn’t smell particularly suspicious and these fruit, with their bright colour and glossy sheen, were nearly alluring. The warm-coated pachy hesitated and glanced at her new companion who found a new roost on a rocky formation nearby. He merely shrugged and gave her a swift nod. Is that a yes?

Convinced enough, she took one of the fruit in her mouth and crunched down on it. At first she merely tasted a light citrus taste, not unpleasant, so she swallowed. Then it hit her. A strange heat began to spread across her tongue. Her throat tingled, then burned, and her stomach twisted sharply at the sensation. Sudden panic surged through her. Lyra stumbled away from the plant, her beady eyes watering at the sting. She coughed and gagged, shaking her head violently in an attempt to shake the painful heat off of her tongue. For a few terrifying moments, he thought he wouldn’t be able to breathe, but then the sensation began to subside. The burning lessened but lingered, leaving her trembling.

All while Lyra fought to recompose herself, Orchid let out squawking barks of laughter.

“That… was a mean prank,” she croaked, her voice just a tinge raspier than usual.

“How was I supposed to know you were so sensitive to a bit of spice?” the tapejara joked about. “It is harmless, don’t worry your little dome over it. It’s just highland chili pepper! Spicy and angry, but it doesn’t hurt you in a way that lasts. Some dinos enjoy it even- or don’t taste it at all.”

As Lyra recovered, licking the edges of her sore mouth, Orchid jumped off his perch and landed on her back, tilting his head to the side to eye her with amusement.

“Please, warn me next time even if it’s safe to eat, man. You’re supposed to teach me.” Lyra complained.

“Practical experience is a better teacher than I am after all,” He counters, as his cackling subsides. “I am just moving along so you don’t accidentally poison your blood or turn yourself blind.”

Finding purchase on her back, Orchid started to preen himself although his scars and broken beak made it difficult to smooth his feathers. “Years of trial and error and watching others make the same mistakes teaches well too,” he explains. “Smart creatures learn from their own mistakes. Smarter ones learn from the mistakes of others.”

Grumbling a little, Lyra moved on and circled around till she stopped with low-growing plants at her feet. They lacked the vibrant colors of the other plants, but they had a fresh, earthy scent that she found pleasant and oddly familiar, although she didn’t recognise the plant itself.

“Safe,” Orchid said simply, noticing Lyras interest in the dull shrubbery. He skipped off of her back and plucked a leaf with his beak, chewing on it with the very tip of his beak. Relieved it was something safe and not spicy by Orchid’s reaction, she mimicked him. The taste was mild, almost sweet, but not particularly significant or outstanding. It was just alright.

“You see,” Orchid chimed in again, awfully chatty for someone with such a raspy voice, “the flashiest plants often have the nastiest tricks. Bright colors, shiny berries, stinging smell, bitter taste. Those are warnings as much as they are lures. But plants like these?” He vaguely nods his crested head towards the plain greenery. “They don’t need tricks. They’ve already found their balance.”

The pachy nodded in agreement, filing the knowledge away, although it wasn’t particularly new information. The reminder was appreciated though.

Their lesson continued as Orchid pointed out other plants, from starchy roots hidden beneath the soil to vines with bitter but harmless fruit. He also rambled on about dangerous plants, like yellow sap-dripping flowers that would cause paralysis or innocuous-looking berries that could induce fever. Lyra couldn’t find any of those highly toxic plants while scanning the area, so she couldn't help it but get the impression the tapejara is merely messing with her again.

As the sun began its descent, the pair climbed a rocky hill to survey the landscape. A towering line of saturated dark rain clouds gathered at the horizon and the first rumble of thunder drummed along. The herd of pachys likely moved downhill again for shelter between larger trees of the jungle.

“Looks like it’s time for me to head back,” Lyra said, a little disheartened she couldn’t continue nibbling at likely safe plants and hearing of Orchids’ tales of highly perilous ones. “Thank you for helping me out, though, I appreciate it a lot! Hope we see each other again.”

“Likewise! There aren’t many who are eager to learn. Far too many rather stick to their stubborn ways and then deal with the consequences,” Orchid stretched his wings out, testing the flow of air on his torn membranes. “Thank you for listening, you are quite pleasant company.” 

Lyra meant to say a few more sentences of farewell, but by the time she thought of the words he already took to the skies. Looking after her brief botanic guide, watching him blend in with the darkening clouds and skies, she too moved on to find the rest of her herd.

Lyra made sure to tell of all the new information she gathered and maybe brag a little of her favourite new finds. Always happy to use her newfound knowledge to help herself and her herd. She still made mistakes and without her new friend by her side she likely would’ve done a lot more, each error brought her closer to mastery.

With enough time passing the highlands became less of a mystery and more of a home, for sure, as Lyra discovers its secrets one leaf at a time and with the help of one or the other native.

(1659 words according to Google Docs)