Tempest

Humans called us monsters. I called them annoying. My mate called me dramatic. I was considering being offended by that. We had spent years hiding in the mountains, far from human cities and their noisy machines. It was peaceful here. Quiet. Safe. Most importantly, nobody bothered me. And my mate was always here. They spoiled me shamelessly, grooming my feathers, bringing me food, and curling their enormous body around mine whenever we rested. I would never admit how much I loved it. Then humans came. I heard the helicopters before I saw them. My feathers bristled. My mate immediately noticed. “Ignore them.” I huffed and turned my head away. They chuckled. “Please?” Another helicopter appeared overhead. I stared at it. It flew directly over our valley. My claws dug into the ground. My mate sighed. “Don't.” I slowly looked at them. They knew that look. “No.” I growled. “They didn't do anything to you.” I growled louder. “They probably don't even know we're here.” I stared at the helicopter. Then back at my mate. They lowered their head. “…You're right.” Finally. I spread my enormous wings and rose to my full height. My mate hurried after me, already trying to calm me down. We had avoided humans for years. Unfortunately, humans had just made the mistake of entering my territory. And I was feeling particularly petty today.