Aetonyx

From Yarnspinners2

One day Aetonyx was sunning himself on a rock by the waters' edge when a huge seabird grasped him and flew out to sea. Aetonyx thought he was done for, but this particular bird, it turned out, only ate fish. "Oh, my mistake," said the bird when he got to his rocky island and realized that he had a scaly, somewhat irate lizard clenched between his claws. "I'm so terribly sorry," he said, and set Aetonyx gently down on a rock before flying off to find real food.

Aetonyx sat on that rock all day, hoping the bird would return and carry him back to shore. It was a very tiny island, and there were no insects to be found, so by and by he grew hungry. The sun sank beneath the sea, and rose again, and made its way across the sky three times before the bird returned.

"Please," said Aetonyx, for he was very hungry, not to mention bored out of his mind on the tiny scrap of rock. "Take me back to the mainland, and I will help you find some fish to make up for your troubles."

"Oh, no, I'm afraid I can't do that," said the bird. "I feel dreadfully awful about grabbing you by mistake, but I haven't the time to fly back to shore. I have eggs about to hatch in my nest here, you see, and I must find food for them to eat. I don't imagine a lizard like you will be much help." And the bird flew off again.

When the bird returned two days later, Aetonyx asked him again, a little weakly, if he could carry him back to the beach he'd been on, for it was within easy flying distance, though too far to swim. "It can't be done, my doomed little friend," said the bird. "My eggs will be hatching any day now..." And the bird flew away sadly, regretting that the small little lizard would soon die from circumstances wholly beyond his control.

By the time the bird returned to the island again, nearly six days had elapsed. The baby birds would hatch in another day or so, and by now surely the little lizard would be unable to make his incessant, unreasonable demands on the bird's time. But when he got to his nest, he had a cruel shock-- all that was left were a bunch of broken egg shells and a small little lizard contentedly sleeping off a large meal. "Ah, my friend, perhaps you'll have time to carry me back to shore now, as you ought to have done many days ago," said the lizard, awakening to frantic squawking.

"You... you..." sputtered the bird, livid with rage. As in all civilized societies, egg-eaters are the absolute worst form of criminals among scale-leavers.

"No, don't worry, your brood hatched days ago," said Aetonyx. "I napped on them to keep myself warm, and so they hatched early. When flies came to eat the goo left on their discarded shells, I gorged myself. When I had regained my strength, I caught some fish from a shallow pool for the hatchlings, so they have come to care for me very deeply."

"But where are they?" cried the bird, distraught and quite mistrusting.

"Right... about... there," said Aetonyx, pointing to the sky, where some tiny birds were leading the way for Yarix, the giant eagle who had been the lizard trickster's companion on many adventures. The seabird quivered at the sight of the eagle, whose kind had been known to eat even adults of his species, flying so close to his young. Aetonyx laughed. "I wouldn't worry about the hatchlings," he said. "Yarix would never hurt any friend of mine." And the giant eagle gently plucked Aetonyx from the nest, and flew to shore.

The seabird was relieved that Aetonyx had not been vengeful and allowed the eagle to eat him. But he never saw his children again, except from a distance, where they could be seen swooping and diving around the shore, always attending to a small little lizard.