There were birds in the treetops—not ordinary birds, but Diricawls.
Their feathers were brilliantly colored—red, blue, yellow, green—like tiny colored lights in the darkness.
Tom crouched behind the bushes and counted them. Six.
A Diricawl's cry could drive people mad. He couldn't let them make a sound.
The Diricawls spotted him, and their shrieks interrupted his thoughts.
Fortunately, they did not immediately use their innate ability. They were merely warning him to leave, which was rather sporting of them.
Tom raised an eyebrow. "Sorry. You might be sporting, but I can't promise I will be."
He took a grass rope from his pocket and tied a slipknot, then raised his wand.
"Explosive Flash!"
A burst of intense light shot from the tip of his wand, a hundred times brighter than Lumos.
All six Diricawls shrieked at once—not as a sonic attack, but because they had been startled.
They took off from the tree and crashed about wildly in the darkness. Tom rushed out, looped the grass rope around one, and tied it.
Then he snared another and tied it, then another and tied it, until all six had been caught.
He drew his wand and cast "Silencio" on each Diricawl.
Their beaks opened, but no sound came out. They flapped their wings, but they could not cry.
"Don't be afraid. I'm only borrowing a few feathers." Tom crouched down and rubbed the plump Diricawl. "They'll grow back anyway. Once I borrow them, though, I'm not giving them back."
Tom crouched down and began plucking feathers. The Diricawls' plumage was beautiful—red like fire, blue like a lake, green like grass.
The feathers glowed in his hand, like leaves freshly picked from a tree.
Diricawl feathers could not only be used in potion-making and alchemy, but were also excellent materials for expensive