A clenched Eagle talon flung through Rawlin's beak, knocking him to the floor. "Half tweet." They mocked.
The dazed raven child raised himself from the ground, glancing up at his persecutors. The Eagle brought another fist down on him but was stopped by Rawlin's own hand, squeezing the talon open. He twisted it and flung his left fist into the Eagle's chest, throwing him into the other birds.
"Whoa, dude, chill out." An eagle protested.
Rawlin grimaced, hissing, "Then leave me alone! I know who my parents are!"
The hurt eagle rose from his position, chuckling, "And there's nothing you can do to change it. You're a disgrace to this Tribe." The white-feathered group sauntered away into a nearby building.
Rawlin's white left arm had plagued him ever since birth. Both Ravens and Eagles pestered him endlessly about it. If only there was something he could do about it.
Rawlin was an intelligent individual. His Eagle heritage gifted him with an acute mental sharpness that most Eagles lacked and no Raven ever possessed. His own cleverness delivered him from many a terrible situation. He excelled in school and surpassed all his Eagle schoolmates. He lived with the Raven Tribe but was educated at the Eagle Tribe. Even at home he couldn't find rest from pecking about his lineage. He refused to wear long sleeves to declare his security in his own ability.
Rawlin stood and twisted his torso, releasing tensed areas of his back, "My goodness. Will they never stop?" He was glad school had ended for the day but did not look forward to reaching home. Resuming his course, he hoped no one else would stop him on the way to his speedor.
Luckily, the citizens of the spire left him alone so he reached his speedor with ease. He reved it and sped toward the Raven HQ.
"Identify yourself!" A Raven sentry demanded as Rawlin approached.
"Rawlin!"
The gate opened and Rawlin entered, coasting toward his home. As he rode through the streets, he glared up at the various Wings Row banners posted around the buildings. He thought to himself about all the corruption that gripped the streets, about the tyrannical monarchy reigning over this tribe that hoarded most all of the wealth, and the poor state at which everything existed.
Presently, Rawlin parks his vehicle and passes into his parent's ragged apartment.
"Well, hello, darling!" His mother, Erlin, greeted with a high pitch tone, giving him a quick hug.
"Good evening, mother." He returned, hugging her back and sighing.
"Please tell me those boys didn't bother you again?"
Rawlin laughed, "Oh, yes mother. They left me alone."
"How many times must I remind you that sarcasm is uneducated?"
"Until you die." Rawlin grinned, fetching himself a glass of water.
Rawlin's father, Rawndor, entered the house with tool boxes strung on his shoulders and black grime smeared all over him. Tossing his supplies onto the floor, he pitched a bag of money onto the counter, "5 pieces today." He exhaled and sat on a flimsy chair set in one of the corners.
"That's better than yesterday's 4 piece day." Erlin squealed happily, pecking him with a brief kiss.
"This king of ours hoards everything!" Rawlin exclaimed, slamming a fist into the counter. Erlin and Rawndor passed each other happy glances.
"What do we do with kings like that?" Erlin hissed, facing Rawlin.
Rawlin stuttered for a moment, putting a hand to his forehead, "We-- we overthrow, destroy, and tactically remove them from office."
Erlin guided him into a soft chair, "And what are Eagles?"
"Inferior beings with no purpose in Chima that must be disposed of." Rawlin chanted, his eyes beginning to roll in his head.
Erlin leaned beside his ear, whispering, "Nolat."
Rawlin's eyes slid shut as his body went limp, beginning his hypnosis session for the evening.
