Mayhem

Name: Ira Gerten

Age: 15

Gender: Female

Species: Harpy Eagel

"This is often called the most powerful eagle in the world, weighing up to 9 kgs and measuring 105 cms long. Its talons are longer than a bear’s claws, and it has such a powerful grasp, that it could break a man’s arm or even pierce through his skull if it wanted to. In some parts of its range (southern Mexico, Central and South America), Harpy eagles have been said to snatch small children, but this has never been confirmed. They feed mostly on monkeys, sloths, and large birds such as macaws. Iguanas and boas are also taken on occasion.

Harpy eagles have a wingspan of around 2 meters, much shorter than would be expected on such a large bird; this is an adaptation to fly in densely forested habitats, where a greater wingspan would mean less maneuverability, and therefore, more accidents. Unfortunately, Harpy eagles are endangered in most of their range, due to habitat destruction; in some places of Mexico, for example, they are so rare that locals regard them as a semi-legendary animal."

Personality: Ira is quite a complex person. While she indulges in sarcasm, she is often quite sensitive to people's feelings, and has a habit of defending people who have no defenders. She is smart and quick-thinking, and is often thought of as stubborn, strong-willed and solid, but quite mature.

And she takes no crap from anyone.

Past: When apocalypse first came out, her parents were ripped apart by some savages that had acquired a taste for human flesh and she hid in an abandoned shack for four months, even though she was only a young kid and had no family but her two younger siblings - Ash, who was three at the time, and Lila, who was six at the time. Ash grew sick with disease and Ira had to make a decision that almost destroyed her soul - leave her vulnerable young brother and make a new life for Lila and her, or stay by him and risk catching the disease herself.

She left him.

Family/Relationships: Lila. She had never been one for making friends.

Other: She has a soft spot for little kids, hates spiders, fears being alone

Human Form: Ira is average-looking. She has beige skin and hazel eyes, which turn slightly greener when she is feeling negative emotions and browner if she's feeling positive emotions. Her hair is thick, curly, and dark brown - short for practicality. Although there's a relative scarceness of food, she's about average weight. Short, though, maybe five feet.

Animal Form:

(Is it alright if I write in first person, present tense? )

"Lila? Lila!" I whisper-shout, my voice weak and hoarse from lack of food.

Her sleep-sand clotted eyes snap open. "Ira?" she croaks.

"We need to get up," I tell her. "Look for food."

She nods sleepily, and yawns as she straightens up in the rotting barn which is our shelter - our home.

My stomach screams at me, and I double up from the pain, trying to breathe deeply. For a few days we've had nothing to eat but leaves, which are obviously not adequate - and I've given most of them to poor Lila.

Lila touches my shoulder, her eyes wide with worry. "What is it?" she asks, alarmed.

"I'm OK," I assure her. 

Who am I fooling?Not her, and certainly not me.

I found an old map that we missed when looking around. Says there's a river near a road from here. We could fish."

I can tell from her ex
pression that questions are buzzing in her small head, but she knows questioning me just makes me even more anxious.

"It's a bit far, really," I go on, arm round her. "Twenty miles."

She stares at me. We never venture out to places too remote, and always steer clear fom roads. There are people who would be more than happy to kill and eat us. I would cover the distance much quicker if I shifted - but Lila isn't a shape-shifter.

"Pack up, use the toilet" - I almost laugh - like we didn't take all the water from the toilet when we got here; like the electricity still works - "If we leave soon we'll be there by evening."

My stomach roars in protest. It wants fish at this very moment. "I think it's time to use the emergency food," I say, my voice strained.

"Emergency food?" she echoes

I forgot that I didn't tell her. "Yes. I saved up some food in case we really, really needed it."

Her eyes are bright. "How much?" she asks excitedly.

"I can't remember," I reply. "Come see. She follows me as I exit the barn- careful to cast a cautious look around our countryside surroundings - and go round it's barely upright planks of wood, until I find the spot I buried the stuff six onths ago.

She's holding her metal shovel - good. I've drummed into her for a long time to always carry a weapon - just in case.

"I need to dig it up," I tell her, and she passes me the shovel. "Keep a look out," I instruct as I get a firm grip on the tool and bury it in the earth, then glance again at the area around us.

"Ira?"

"Yeah?" I lift up some of the dirt and toss it behind me.

"Why did you bury it?"

I insert the shovel in the ground again, wriggling it as deep as I can. "I would be tempted to get it when I was only a bit hungry. The thought of the work I'd have to do would stop me."

"Oh."

Grunting, I prise another clump of earth off. My breathing is already becoming laboured - I do not have much energy. I repeat the motion, my stomach ripping my insides to shreds, my shaking arms aching, my head pounding with a ferocious headache. Finally, I feel the shovel head touch something hard and unyielding.

I drop the tool, and sit down abruptly, breathing so heavily, I don't think I can even stand it. "Can . . . you . . . get it . . . out?" I pant.

Lila turns round and complies. She's very tall for her age - clears five and a half feet- so she manages to pull the box out. With hands motivated by the prospect of food, she snatches it out of the ground quickly, then tries to yank it open.

"Key..." I remove it from my pocket and hand it over. My heartbeat isn't yet back to normal.

"You don't trust yourself very much, do you?" she murmurs, putting the key in the lock.

No, I don't.

She finally opens the plastic container, and removes the contents. There are two bags. She opens one and reaches a hand inside, ready to eat immediately . . . I badly want to grab one and devour all the food,but I must be responsible.

"Wait. We might have to ration - or take it slowly."

"I'm hungry, Ira." She turns pleading eyes towards me.

"You're twelve. It's time you start thinking responsibly."

I remember with a pang that my parents said the same thing to me before they . . .

"Hand them over," I say abruptly. Anything to stop the memories.

"No." She sticks her hand in and comes out with a fistful of crackers, and stuffs a whole one in her mouth, jaws overworking to manage the sudden intake of nutrition.

"Lila," I say, irritated now, but so, so hungry/"Please listen to me-"

But before I know it, five crackers are making their way into my mouth with quick succession.

*

Each bag contained ten crackers, ten strips of dried beef, two hundred grams of dried fruit,  and a tin of baked beans. I make Lila save the baked beans and the beef, and myself, too - they go in our packs, which also contain a knife, a sleeping bag, a one litre bottle of water, and a whistle, and in my case, the map.

"This way," I say, pointing north-east. We're deep in a forest, so we should be safe, for now. Most animals have been killed for food but it wouldn't hurt to meet a rabbit or something.

"Tell me if you feel you need a rest," I tell her.

"Mmh."

We set off.

My arm goes out, catching Lila in the chest. She turns to me, and I place a finger on my lips, listening intently. I thought I heard something . . .
Yes. I did. Voices.

People, I mouth at her, then point north-west - so they're on the road, if I've got my bearings correct. I hold myself completely still. We have learnt to fear strangers.

"What should we do?" she whispers, her voice infused with fear.

I listen closer. "Sounds like there's quite a few, " I whisper back, still not moving so much as I limb. These people could be dangerous - cannibals, thieves. "We-"

"Could we maybe . . . see if . . ."

I shake my head vigorously, very against the idea. "You know what happened last time."

She bites her lip.  We escaped, but not unharmed - I received a painful, albeit shallow knife cut to the arm and she bruises and cuts.

"But if we could just look, and they're OK, we could team up-" she tries again.

"Lila," I sigh. Sometimes being the kind, patient big sister isn't such a nice job.

"Could you just change into a bird and go look?" Lila pleads. I don't know why she's so eager to go meet potentially murderous people. 

"I'm not leaving you alone!" I say, careful to keep my voice low - just in case. "Come on, let's go."

I begin to walk, gingerly, in the direction of the river, tugging at her with my hand.

But Lila tears off in the direction of the road.

"LILA, NO!" I yell without thinking.