learning to fly

Ivar hated that he had to put this piece of his property on the market, it was only a small fraction of the whole but it has a house on it and that was one of the tools the local native American tribe was using to try to take his land, while the land didn't belong to the tribe he did, well at least half of him did his mother was born in Scotland and his dad brought her back with him after the war and the tribe his supposed"brethren" never let him forget that he only half, they felt no less untitled that that was given to his grandfathers father for engineering a solution to a famine that rocked the tribe years ago, if it wasn't the tribe it was the lumber Barron's or hunting guides or the conservationist or just rich people wanting to get away from it all like the purchaser of this house and 5 acres, he was glad it didn't go to the tribe who were the reason he put it on the market, they argued that it was selfish of him to own so many houses while they struggled find enough, he was happy it was bought by this miss Tribedau but not so thrilled about the "miss", oh well this rich white lady probably couldn't hack it for more then a month any way. she would go running back to her luxury's that this remote location didn't offer, electricity being at the top of that list, he wondered if she over looked that part "TIC-CEW TIC-CEW TIC-CEW" Ivar was jerked back to the present by the report of a small caliber fire arm echoing of the far side of the gorge, probably a .22cal but still to close, the son was setting and that was when Ivar's time began. he expected to find nothing but loving the test deep down he hoped it would be a threat and off he went nearly silent and barely perceptible and just off to the right almost to far to see a grey and black shadow always to his right, he did even question it.