Eagle and sheep

  In the foothills before dawn, the light gray has been compared with the dark.

  The place is cold and cold, and there is no wind. On the bare mountain top, the stars hide behind the clouds and are within reach. To the east, the steep cliffs are towering and standing on the mountains forever. There is an eagle’s nest at the edge of the cliff.

  The night is like a tidal wave, gradually receding from the cliff, and the gradually bright sky climbs between the branches of the eagle’s nest. A few eagle eagle under the loose wings of the female eagle. The female eagle raised her head and raised her wings slightly, looking around. Suddenly the coldness caused the fledgling eagle to tremble and involuntarily leaned against the mother’s leg. At this moment, the eagle screaming cockroach is standing beside the nest, watching the sky on the other side motionless, and the white eagle crest is flat and narrow. Under the fierce eyes, a pair of yellow eyes stared at the fading whiteness of the East Sea.

  Hunger is afflicting big birds. The eagle is also hungry, but can’t find some food from the mother’s mouth. Day after day, the big birds that go fishing are always unable to return; day after day, they are tirelessly pursuing their prey, but they have nothing to gain. This spring, the squid and the squid seem to have hid, and the hare seems to have escaped from the mountains.

  The female eagle is bigger than the eagle and its wings are stronger, but it seems to be in trouble. Her feathers are tangled, and the eyes that keep turning are sharp, but they are uneasy, and there will be no gods from time to time. The day before, she found a squid on the lake, swimming on the water. She put her wings up and her paws backwards, carrying a hurricane and swooping down. But the fish is too big for her. She was dragged into the water again and again, almost drowned. Later, she had to let go of her claws and struggle to fly back to the nest on the mountain.

  The sky in the east has turned from gray to red. Rust red and purple spots and impressions climbed between the boulder of the cliff. The scarlet weaving between the branches of the eagle nest is like the blood that has just been sprinkled, and it flickers in the fading skylight. The rosy light spewed out and washed the entire mountain. The sun jumped out of the horizon.

  The eagle on the foot of the mountain rises high, stretches its wings, and screams, seemingly summoning this new day. After a pause, he turned to the nest. Then, he lowered his head, his wings stretched out more, jumped into the air, and the steady and skillful posture was like a swimmer jumping into the sea. The female eagle gazed at him, staring at his shadow as a ghostly gliding through the shadows. With a strong arc, the eagle flies high in the morning bright sky, the wings are straight, motionless, plunging into the distant horizon.

  The sun rises higher and the night is like the snow that has been delayed in the early spring. It melts on the low hills and disappears on the slopes of the highlands, but still hangs in the low depression of the valley. Under the eagle’s view, the image of the earth is everywhere. The eagle draws a huge circle in the sky, and the neck always eagerly reaches the ground, looking for something to resolve the size of the hungry in the nest.

  Not far from the sea, a round hill is still shrouded in the night. The barren hills are eroded by the wind and rain, there are no shrubs, only the little cypresses dotted around them. The mountains are covered with moss-covered stones, and there are some small grasses that are fragrant and weak. In the slightly chilly morning, an ewe stretched out her ears, concentrating on the signs of danger, but only heard the dark sounds of the distant sea. Under the ewe, it was a lamb that was born last night.

  The pain of production makes the lost ewes feel anxious and lonely. However, after the first weak slap of the lamb came, everything was different. Suddenly, her fear increased tenfold, not for herself, but for the lamb. At this moment, her heart also raised the courage that she had never felt before. She gently yelled at the lamb that kept trembling beside her, her voice low and soft. The owl’s tweet came from the forest in the far valley, and she raised her head angrily, as if the voice threatened her lamb. A voles slid past them, squatting between the rocks, and she would stand up violently, making the intruder a lion.

  The gray of dawn gradually dispersed from the grasslands. The ewes watched the lamb lying on the ground and still trembling. She whispered him and caressed him. The lamb struggled to stand up, four legs struggled open, clumsily supported the body and kept the balance. The lamb began to eat milk, and the ewes stretched their necks and turned their heads, paying attention to his every move and whispering with satisfaction.

  The rosy light once crossed the mountain and awakened the eagle. Now, the sky is gently covered with vast grassland. The ewes took a few steps forward and wanted to keep the lambs full of milk. She wants the lamb to learn to walk and find the flock. The open grasslands are always dangerous.

  The lamb shook his ear and pleaded, not willing to go. The ewe turned around, gently soothed, pushed with the nose, and walked a few more steps, wanting him to keep up. The lamb did not keep up, but shouted. At this moment, the terrible whistling sound descended from the sky, and a shadow shrouded the lamb’s body. The ewes turned like crazy and used their heads to top. The eagle swayed its wings, crossed the top of the ewe’s head, and flew to the side of the mountain. The lamb crouched softly under the eagle’s claws.

  At the foot of the mountain, the ewe screamed sadly and helplessly, looking up at the sky and slamming in the rocks and grass.

  In the eagle’s nest, it is a satisfaction, and the trouble of hunger is no longer there. Under the sun, the eagle’s neck is staggered. The proud eagle squats high at the nest, overlooking the world of the world. From time to time, he would raise his wings and make a few pleasant calls to the sun. At this moment, the female eagle stood on the tree sill next to the nest and combed the feathers. From time to time, she would put her head into the nest, whispering to the sleeping eagle, and the sound seemed to be from the depths of her throat.

  But on the round hills, the ewes are still calling around, looking for her lamb, and ignoring the flock that has already migrated to the grasslands elsewhere.

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