Not Quite Elves

Carpet and Pumpkin had been working hard. With ruffled feathers and exhausted wings, the two got into as much trouble as two little birds possibly could. Whether it was Carpet doing a silly dance to distract the very angry bird of prey while Pumpkin yanked out a feather and flew for her life to escape sharp claws, or Pumpkin dive-bombing the angry cervid while Carpet hauled off a freshly shed antler, the Tropeognathus and Tapejara duo were lucky to come out without a scratch. It was for good causes, at the very least–they didn’t just terrorize local wildlife for the fun of it (most of the time). The two fliers had a horde of objects building up within the hollow tree they’d sought out for the shenanigans they’d be up to; it was jam-packed with all sorts of goodies, from ratty old socks and shoes to shiny watches and even a few pearls they’d bartered with an old Aristonectes for. Their flights had taken them across the isles, through strong wind currents both in their favor and sorely against. As the breeze sent chills throughout the woodlands and the weather patterns shifted, both Pumpkin and Carpet figured that those they knew would be in need of something to cheer them up. 

Thus came their glorious plan: gather up all sorts of items from all across the isles and begin to spread some form of joy through gift-giving. The plan couldn’t be fully enacted until the trinkets had been gathered, but so far, Carpet and Pumpkin had it covered. The two took some time to sort through the horde and determine which items would best fit their various friends: this led to a few arguments over whether or not one therizinosaurus would be able to weave with their impressive claws, or if it was rude to expect them to craft something out of materials rather than just giving them the final product. It wasn’t like a Tropeognathus and Tapejara pair could even weave or knit without playing a very rough game of jump rope, and if they had asked another therizinosaurus they knew, the entire plan would be spoiled. Word spreads fast enough through their neck of the woods, and two fliers up to no good are sure to come up in an everyday conversation between a few bored feathered therizinosaurids. Despite their disagreements, Pumpkin and Carpet settled on the idea that it wouldn’t be too bad to gift some materials for a therizinosaurus to weave a vine drape to stay warm in the chilly weather. Pumpkin went further to suggest that, after receiving a gift, maybe one of the larger feathered beasts would be willing to help their cause and create something from the materials given for others. Carpet wasn’t too sure about the idea, but hesitantly agreed to propose the thought to their first victim of the trinket drops. Unfortunately, this also required a level of secrecy and trust, and they didn’t know whether or not it could be maintained. They’d just have to choose the first trial wisely, and go from there. Obviously they couldn’t complete their plan in one night, either–they certainly weren’t like some magical man with nine reindeer and an army of elves, they were just two birds! 

So, it ended up like this: Pumpkin and Carpet made several flights back and forth, stashing relatively long and fibrous vines close to a copse at the edge of the ashlands. Their first victim, and hopefully willing participant, was their most favored therizinosaurus on Isla Pera: a large, joyful female who went by the name of Pitch. The name was fitting, both Pumpkin and Carpet agreed, as her feathers were akin to the color of the volcanic rock and ashes that drifted through her homeland. Bones were littered around the copse, but she was no carnivore–she’d mentioned something about how they looked, but also some weird words. Cow-see? Pitch didn’t seem too certain about the word either, given that she had followed up with an “um” at the end. Carpet could agree to a point on their decorative purposes, although he mostly thought it was some sort of intimidation tactic to make other carnivores think that something murderous and deadly lived within; it wasn’t wholly untrue, as Pitch probably had killed something in her lifetime–he swore she had that look in her eyes at times. Maybe that was just because she was tired of his dive bombing antics when he practiced on her, though. Pumpkin struggled with some of the vines as they weighed her down quite a bit, and the flights were sloppy at first, but they both got the hang of it eventually and managed to deposit the vines in a safe manner nearby without getting caught. Shaking off the chill that’d tried settling across her feathers, Pumpkin hopped around the bones and made short little flights into the center of the trees. Just beyond where she landed, a mass of black feathers rose and fell in the gentle rhythm of sleep. 

Oops. Who needs beauty sleep anyways? Pumpkin thought, and nudged Pitch’s beak with her own. 

“Pitch, hey, Pitch, wake up sleepyhead,” She chirped. Pitch didn’t budge. Pumpkin grumbled, then walked back a little bit before all but throwing herself into the therizinosaurus’s cheek. Pitch woke with a grunt as Pumpkin stumbled back and shook off the light stun. Scarlet eyes blinked away the haze of a really good nap before coming to focus on the small Tapejara. 

“Oh, hey Pumpkin. How’s the weather treating you? You cold? Need a snuggle?” Pitch hummed, already reaching her feathered arms to pull Pumpkin into her warm feathers. Pumpkin squeaked and did her best to avoid being smothered.

“Carpet and I need your help with something–we’ve got a plan,” She explained, and wiggled back out of Pitch’s grasp; she mourned the loss of warmth immediately. “Can you weave? With vines, that is?” 

Pitch quirked her head to the side and flexed her claws. “I could certainly try, I guess? What’s this for?”

Carpet glided into the copse and softly landed, carrying a vine with him. “We can’t make it ourselves, but we figured that a drape or blanket could help keep a few friends warm through the cold snaps! This is super secret, obviously, and we trust you the most with our top secret ultimate plan of winter cheer. We have stuff for you, too, but we wanted to see if you’d help us in our efforts?” 

Both Pumpkin and Carpet turned their wet, puppy dog begging eyes to the therizinosaurus and gave the saddest little stares in their entire lives. A smile broke out onto Pitch’s face and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Aw, well I’m honored!” Pitch crooned. “Of course I’ll help. Do I get mine yet, or do I need to finish the weave first?”

Pumpkin fluttered her wings in a puff of indignation. “You get it now! Carpet brought it, but I found it. The vines for the drape are outside for whenever you wanna start on that.” 

Carpet was gone in a flash and back just as fast, carrying a tied-together set of cervid antlers. “I tied and carried them, so technically I did the work, but Pumpkin did find them. We thought you’d like them, since you like bones and sharp objects!” He puffed up his feathered proudly and stood beside Pumpkin, who was gleaming with hope.

“Do you like it? Do you like it?” Pumpkin was nearly bouncing off her feet in excitement as Pitch reached out and looped a claw under the vine that tied the antlers together. She lifted it to inspect, then dipped her head down to loop them over her shoulders. 

“I absolutely love them! I don’t think I’ve seen anything like this in the ashlands. I’ll wear them forever,” Pitch promised. “Now, how about that vine drape?”

Pumpkin and Carpet rejoiced, more than overjoyed that their first gift was a success. Next to come was to help Pitch weave the vines and head to their next unsuspecting victim.