However, it was not the owl or the crow she needed to be worrying about. From the other side of the clearing, the sound of hooves could be heard heavily pounding against the ground at an startling pace. As the sound got louder, a deep grunting could also be heard. Joan could hear twigs and branches being broken as something large and loud was swiftly approaching.
Bursting through the trees from the other side of the clearing was a cow. No, Joan realized. Not just a cow. It was a charging bull. The big burly ox galloped across the meadow. It was headed straight for a group of lambs in the center of the flock. Joan tried her best to yell a warning to the docile animals down below. But the best she could do was make a gruff, throaty squawk. Some of the sheep began to bleat in distress at the presence of the bovine intruder.
Fearing the worst, Joan turned her head to look away. She could not bear to watch the ox trample all over the innocent lambs. But from somewhere down below, there was another set of hooves, which could be heard clomping through the woods. Directly below Joan, a goat leaped through the tree line and into the pasture. It was a dark grey with a patch of white fur on its neck.
Joan could not believe it. It was the goat from her previous dream. The one who had ripped off her dress. The slate colored animal bolted across the meadow and ran directly at the bull. The ox stopped charging for a moment and took in the sight of the horned challenger. He narrowed his eyes and snorted as he glared at the dark buck. He then began to run directly at the goat. The grey billy did not shy away. He lowered his head as the ox came at him. The bull also lowered his head, preparing himself for an inevitable collision with the smaller beast.
Joan cringed as she observed the size difference between the two. There was no conceivable way that the goat would be able to withstand the weight and power possessed by the ox. She prepared herself to witness the grey buck's imminent demise. If the bull did not kill the goat, it would at the very least severely injure him. She let out a weak croak of anguish.
However, before the two could smash into each other, the ox stopped in his tracks and let out a pained grunt. Joan looked over and saw that directly behind the bull was a mass of russet colored fur. The tawny form began to back up. Joan was amazed to see that it was the red goat from her earlier nightmare. And the it had blood all over its horns. It was evident that she had gored the ox from behind, piercing his undercarriage.
Joan could not determine how serious the bull's injury was. But the his hind legs began to tremble and bend as the rotund animal collapsed to the ground. Blood gushed out from his lower abdomen. He opened his mouth, letting out a guttural moan. As blood continued to flow from his belly out onto the grass, the beast's breath became more and more ragged. He laid his head down on the ground and closed his eyes. His breathing slowed down. And eventually his breath stopped all together.
The entire time, the pair of goats did not take their eyes off the ox as they witnessed the life slowly draining out of him. Joan looked over at the owl and the crow. They were glancing around at the tree line surrounding the edges of the pasture. It was as if they were vigilantly keeping an eye out for any additional intruders.
And they were not wrong to do so. Not far from where the bull had emerged from the woods, the grass and bushes began to rustle. The disturbance of foliage was accompanied my a low loud growl. Much to Joan's horror, a large ferocious looking lion stealthily entered the clearing. Joan could not believe what she was seeing. She knew it was a dream. And anything could happen in a dream. But why would her unconscious mind manifest a lion? It had a full thick main and large wide paws. It confidently strode through the meadow, past the now unmoving ox. Similar to the bull, the lion seemed to be headed toward the lambs, who were clustered at the center of the flock.
The goats reared up on their hind legs as they got ready to charge. However, the lion opened his mouth, letting out a deafening roar. He bared his teeth, which resembled white daggers. Joan's heart sank. How on earth could two goats defeat such a vicious apex predator?
The lion sped up and began bounding toward the grey billy and the red doe. However, coming within just a few feet of the hooved duo, he halted abruptly. He opened his mouth and roared once again as he looked down at his left hind leg. Irritated, he growled and grunted as he sniffed his back left paw. He then began to lick his appendage. It seemed as though he was trying to sooth himself. He let out a high pitched whine as he lapped at his foot.
Did he cut his paw on a sharp rock, Joan wondered. As the lion's cries became a series of weakened squeals, the grass near him began to move. A grey snake came slithering across the pasture away from the big cat. As the limbless reptile slinked through the vegetation, Joan noted the white stripe running down the center of its back. It's back again, Joan observed. The snake from her nightmare. She shuddered.
As she watched the lion - his energy diminishing - she wondered how fatal the snake's venom was. As the muscular carnivore fought to stay awake, he reluctantly lowered his maned head and his eyelids began to droop. As the lion laid down prostrate in the grass, he ceased to move at all. From where she was perched in the trees, Joan continued to observe. Soon she could not see any signs of life from the lion. It seemed as though the serpent's bite was indeed quite deadly.
Joan wondered why the lucid dream she was having contained so much morbid imagery. Of course there had been times when she had had nightmares previously. But never before had she dreamed of such brutality.
And the violence had yet to end, she realized, as a shrill screech pierced the air. Joan and the other two birds shifted their gaze upwards. There was something circling the clearing from up above. It was some sort of a bird of prey. It had a wide wingspan and long thick talons. It agilely rode a strong current of wind as it soared through the air. As the larger feathered creature began to make its descent, Joan got a clearer view of the bird. It was an eagle. And it was swooping down into the pasture at breakneck speed.
The eagle was coming in so fast, the sheep did not even see it approach. As it dove down, it grasped a small lamb by the scruff of its neck. Making sure that it had a firm grip, the eagle then flapped its long powerful wings a few times. As the lamb was being hoisted up into the air, it began to cry. A nearby ewe, presumably its mother, began to loudly bleat. As she watched her offspring being carried away, she was could do nothing more than ineffectually vocalize her suffering.
As Joan watched the eagle make off with its next meal, she felt a swoosh of air to her left. Much to her surprise, the crow and owl had taken off and were pursuing the larger bird.
It did not take them long to catch up. The eagle could not fly at full speed since it was carrying the full weight of the lamb. The owl flew above and the crow coasted below their intended target. The owl dipped down and began to claw at the eagle's head with it's talons. Attacking from below, the crow started pecking at the eagle's left wing. The eagle shrieked at the unexpected ambush. It frantically began to beat it's wings, trying to escape the two smaller birds. But it could not outpace the owl and the crow. Eventually it could no longer fly at a steady pace.
Joan remained where she was perched as she watched the chase. They were no longer flying above the clearing. Instead they were traveling above the dense woods. As the eagle began to drop to a lower altitude, the three birds soon dipped down below the tree tops. Joan completely lost sight of them. All she could hear was the screaming of the eagle. She wondered if she should fly over and see what became of the three winged creatures and the infant sheep.
However, moments later, off in the distance, she saw an irregular, oddly shaped form emerge from the forest canopy. As it came nearer, Joan realized what it was. It was the owl and the crow flying close together. Jointly, they were carrying the lamb in their claws. As they flew into the meadow, they made their descent. As they came in for an agile landing, they gently set the lamb down back in the pasture next to its mother.
Seeing mother and baby reunited, Joan heaved a sigh of relief. As the air exited the nares of her beak, it made an unsettling whistling sound. Joan bristled at being reminded of her strange avian form.
The owl and the crow resumed their places on the branch of the tree next to Joan. And the three of them watched over the flock as the sheep continued to graze. The two goats walked the perimeter of the pasture. The snake slithered toward a shady spot under a tree.
Unfortunately, the peace did not last as the owl and the crow turned their attention back to the tree line. The looked to where the lion and the ox had earlier entered. Joan also turned to look. Standing at the edge of the clearing was a figure. A tall slim figure. The figure of a man. He was standing in the shadows of the trees. She could clearly make out his silhouette. But no matter how hard Joan studied the man, she could not make out his face or any other defining details. The woods blocked the sun and the man's features remained a mystery.
Both the owl and the crow turned to stare at Joan. They intently eyed her, as if they were expecting her to do something. Confused, she looked at them both, hoping that maybe they could provide her with some sort of an answer. What did they want her to do? The crow and owl looked back over to the man. The crow loudly cawed and the owl let out a shriek. Then they both looked back at Joan.
She knew what they wanted her to do. This man was as much of a predator as the lion and eagle. And he was as much of a danger as the charging bull. And the owl and the crow expected her to do something about it.
