Gary poked Dave three times on his shoulder in rapid succession. Dave blinked three times, slowly, before turning to look at Gary. Gary's eyes were fixed on the cliff ledge in the distance. When he moved in for another poke, Dave batted him away.

"How long has it been?"

"Since we sat down on this bench?" Dave glanced at his watch. "More than three hours. Maybe we should do some stretches or something."

Gary's gaze still hadn't faltered. "Did he move?"

"Huh?"

Gary pointed at something perched on the cliff's edge. "Did he move at all? Or is he just...standing up there?"

Dave squinted then sighed. Gary was still worked up about the baby nordhawk he noticed when they first arrived. Dave tried to remember where the thing was three hours ago. "He moved a little, but barely."

"I'm gonna call someone." Gary broke his gaze to start rummaging through his pockets. "Maybe the snatchcops...or the regular cops--someone."

"Why?" Dave stretched and rested his arm on the back of the bench. "He's not doing...anything."

Gary was standing now, emptying his pockets onto the ground in a futile search for his phone. "That's why! What is he doing up there? Nordhawks don't nest in cliffs. He's too young to fly. What if he's waiting for the flock. It's been a long time, don't tell me it's not suspicious."

Dave looked up at the young nordhawk. It's wings were so small at this stage, hardly menacing. The spines that normally lined the edge of the wing were merely thorn sized. His little body was still pudgy and covered in wispy down. The ram-like horns characteristic of nordhawks were only nubs and his fangs barely protruded past his thin little lips. Dave tilted his head. Even the nordhawk's face was still babyish. He looked like Dave's baby cousin Kevin. Hardly something to be concerned over.

"I wouldn't call the cops unless something changes. There have been no sign of any full-growns. He probably just got left behind in the migration. They wouldn't have opened the park up if it wasn't safe, Gary." Dave bent down to start picking up Gary's strewn things when he found Gary's phone half sticking out of a chip bag. "Oh, and please don't ever call the snatchcops. They're so pretentious."

Gary still stood, unmoving. "But, Dave, wh-what if he jumps?"

Dave's eyes softened, remembering that day ten years ago when the first of the nordhawks arrived. Gary's mother had been jumped right in front of them both. There was nothing Dave could do to get the image of that nordhawk with Gary's mom's throat in its mouth out of his head--that distorted human face staring back, snapping at anyone who came close to its kill.

Dave sighed and pushed those thoughts away. "I don't think he will. He's too young, besides, he had plenty of time to do it."

Gary closed his eyes painfully and bent down to look for his phone again. "I'm sorry, Dave, but I--"

"Wait." Dave's voice shuddered.

"What?"

Dave swallowed as vaguely human eyes met his. "He's looking at us."

The nordhawk reared up and flapped its fledgling wings. When it opened its maw, terrible screeching erupted and the trees began to shake as nordhawks awoke around them. 

Gary stumbled backward, turning, disbelieving. "The flock--it--it's here."

Dave grabbed Gary by the shoulders and started to push him towards the path. The baby nordhawk crouched, waving a lion's tail. 

"C'mon, Gary!" Dave gasped as all of the nordhawks screeched in unison. "RUN!"