B22C6/7 - Compared to Owl

And then the golden eagle came flapping out of the window. Another of David's morphs.

It was one-on-one. Him and me. Golden eagle against owl. He was faster. Stronger. But it was still mostly dark and the air was cool, with none of the warm lift it would have later in the day after the sun came up and baked the ground.

He was faster and stronger, but the night belonged to me.

I turned and raced away. He followed. Ax lay still on the damp grass. But he was breathing. And to my infinite relief, he was no longer entirely a harrier.

(...)

I flew at top speed. But David was faster. His huge wings plowed through the air.

But see, I had an eagle morph, too. I know what eagles can do and what they cannot do. I know it like no human being can possibly know it.

I knew exactly how quickly David could turn, how well he could accelerate or slow down. I knew so precisely what David could see that I might as well have been looking through his eyes.

I wanted him to see me. But he couldn't reach me, not yet. Not until the time and place I had chosen.

Silently I swooped low across rooftops, swerved around trees, swooshed down the shadowed setbacks between homes. I skimmed fences and dropped behind them, out of sight, to suddenly change direction and gain a few feet of breathing room. I shot through gaps in the trees, gaps too narrow for David's vast wings.

But always he kept up. He never gained too much, and I never allowed him to lose me.