Under the Moonlit Wing

Moonlight shone down upon the dark alley behind the stone brick church, glistening in the puddles of recent rains. The silhouette of a small barn owl perched upon the steeple, peering into the darkness below. Ears perked up, listening for the muffled scurrying of tiny rodent feet as it hunted for a tasty meal. With the recent arrival of fresh garbage in the cans below, a curious and hungry mouse or rat should peek its head out from one of the many nooks and crannies they like to make their homes in, hoping to get a bite unmolested. The owl’s eyes shimmered in the moonlight, its head turning toward every little movement, its ears twitching toward the tiniest of sounds. At last, the soft padding of tiny feet on the asphalt reached its ears. Its meal had finally arrived.

The young rat’s whiskered nose twitched as it sniffed out the source of its next meal’s aroma. Feeling around carefully for obstacles and danger, it crept toward the recently dumped garbage, alert for any predators lurking nearby. It did not suspect the presence of the owl, perched high out of reach, but it did detect the sound of a rusty hinge creaking open. The rat scurried off as the man exited the old metal door, closing and locking it before turning heel and walking down the alley. Disappointed, the owl watched the man chase its meal away, his white collar gleaming in the moonlight in stark contrast to his black shirt. His attention was focused on the soft glow in his hand as he strolled down the alley, unaware of the presence of another entity stalking him in the darkness.

Out of the shadows, a sinister figure emerged, wrapped in dark clothes. A hood covered his features, his identity hidden from their feathery witness. He crept closer to his target, encroaching on territory that was not his to claim. As he skulked through the shadows, a gale blew through the alley, causing a rusted can to drift into his path. His would-be victim was alerted to his presence, and he turned to face his stalker. The two squared off, a glint from the intruder’s blade reflected in their observer’s eye. The owl tilted its head with interest, watching as the interloper challenged the alpha of this region. He raised his hands, signaling he was not a threat to his challenger. But the owl was not fooled, for it had seen this ploy before. The foreigner raised his weapon, growling threateningly. The owl watched curiously as the event unfolded. What shall the resident do: cower in fear and be chased from his territory, or stand his ground and fight for that which is rightfully his?

The owl’s question was swiftly answered as the defender attempted to disarm his attacker. The two wrestled and the owl spread its wings in excitement of watching two apex predators locked in a territorial dispute. The combatants struggled, their growls shattering the tranquility of the moonlit alley. Above the battle, a rogue cloud drifted in front of the pale moon, casting an ominous shadow upon their skirmish. Locked in combat, the two men clawed and gnashed their teeth. Then a piercing howl rang through the air, and just as suddenly as it began, the struggle ceased. The warriors pulled apart and the once-pristine blade of the intruder was stained with glistening crimson. The defender’s white collar was splattered with red, and he clutched his wounded chest as he fell to his knees. A victor had been decided.

Silence fell once again upon the darkened alley. The victor knelt down and collected his spoils, then rose back to his feet and vanished silently into the shadows from whence he came. The conquered man fell to the ground, and as the moon returned from obscurity, it cast its light upon the terrible scene. The owl, now that the spectacle has concluded, spread its wings and took flight, disappointed with empty talons. A feather fell from its wing and slowly drifted to the ground, and finally settled upon the growing pool of blood.