A fellow Swellow

A sudden calm warmth washed over Cyclone’s body as positive thoughts flooded her brain. She was vaguely aware of the concept of good feelings to occur to one who’s life was draining away, however she felt more invigorated than ever, as if something more than blood was pumping through her veins making her feel bigger, stronger. She glanced down at her chest where the Liepard’s sharp tail struck her and, to her astonishment, instead of a cut there was a wide, V-shaped stripe. It finally occured to Cyclone that she was evolving.

To be honest, Cyclone had no idea her kind could evolve. She knew it happened to other beings, she had seen Purrloin and Liepard, Pidgey and Pidgeotto, various caterpillars and coccoons. Her mother and father had just never mentioned evolution.

Swellow.

She knew that’s what her kind were called, somehow. The term just appeared to her mind. Feelings of bitterness and resentment came to the young bird once more. So all this time, her parents could have evolved and faired better in protecting their own young, not to mention themselves? Surely they were aware they could become Swellow. Did they just not want to try? Weak, stupid defeatists. And they’d drag her poor siblings into their life of mediocrity, constantly timid and fearful. She thought about how Songy, once full of virility, grew listless and dull. All because she was abducted by some dumb Sneasel for all of three minutes.

Worthless.

Cyclone flew to higher ground. She was astonished how smoothly she could fly now. Fewer wing flaps were needed to gain altitude and... to do anything, really. A dull ache in her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t yet eaten today, and already she had used a tremendous amount of energy. Apparently, the natural healing powers of evolution were no cure for hunger. Cyclone gently glided off her perch to search of some food. While she hated having to be careful, even she could admit her recklessness had its limits.

Cyclone found that the sudden cold weather caused the small Bug types she sustained on to die, some frozen in place. If she were not starving she’d scoff at the lack of challenge. She approched a statuesque Wurmple, its pose stretched out as if reaching for a leaf. Knowing Wurmple’s spikey, pink back offered it natural protection, Cyclone pecked at its soft, pale underbelly. It took a few tries, due to its frozen state, but she finally pierced its skin to get to the gooey guts within. She shoved her face into the opening, not caring that she got its innards all over herself.

“Hey!” an angry voice squawked from above.

Cyclone removed her face from her buggy meal and saw an irritated blue, red, and white bird circling above her.

“Oh! A fellow Swellow!” Cyclone exclaimed.

“Fellow this!” said the other Swellow as it splayed its clawed feet and dove towards Cyclone, barely missing her. A warning strike.

Cyclone flew a short distance and, facing towards her attacker, shouted, “What’s the big idea, loser?”

“This is my territory, idiot!”

Before the other Swellow could attempt to assault Cyclone once more, she turned tail and flew off. Being newly evolved and barely satiated, she knew she was outmatched. Well, this was what she was up against now. It was a shame she couldn’t befriend that Swellow, ask how it became a cool survivor like her, but apparently her kind were antisocial. So be it. She would have to work extra hard to ensure she’d claim her own territory, fight off other evolved birds. This was the life of a tough Swellow.
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Part five of "Fight and Flight". Apologies that it looks better in the thumbnail than it actually is, eh.

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