Rikasa's Flight part 2

Not long after some unwise moments of head spinning, Shravana’s ears got permeated by a tiny wind-slashing buzz. A figure was zooming in from about hundred steps far from the root of targar tree where he was carving a leaf to look like a grotesque model of a palace (or was it a massif?). He turned his head in a swift motion that gave rise to a clink and a painful pat to the neck. The figure graduated towards him. He perplexed for a moment, for the flight of the Rikasa was unusual, it was farther away to be called a blink-of-an-eye rapidity. If not for the rivalry, he would have felt pity for the Rikasa whose black beady eyes were now jerking tears on its grey flaky face. The translucent red wings were barely carrying the weight of its scaly stature, yet they created an ominous buzz. Its shoulder was sagging down and its palms were inwards.
Shravana grasped the root and pushed his body onto the feet, the unfortunate lad curled his toe in the process, which captured the senses of Rikasa as they were more mutated than a daydreaming boy’s senses. The creature blinked and shed the last drops of tears; its eyes were now reflecting revulsion, it was not a time to play! But, no gloom stood beyond the eternal glory, the reputation Rikasa’s forefathers had been carrying on their twisted tails from centuries and centuries, was on steak, and it was practically annoyed by his mundane appearances too. The challenge had been accepted, once again.
Rikasa pumped its tiny fists into the air, like a Yoddha, extended all that was of its wings and gusted them furiously, the sound might have created extra holes into Shravana’s ears, and he cupped his palms on them. A push of the heel into the marshy ground crunched a dehydrated leaf and Shravana started to aggress towards his trophy. Rikasa fluttered its tail and stuck out its tongue towards him, his monkish expression deluded in a snap, his neck exaggerated the blood pumping into his veins and his feet started wheeling. Rikasa beamed in haughtiness and started tapping its hands to its tail. Shravana uttered a word that he didn’t know the meaning of, it was a curse he had heeded from Yathartha, Rikasa snickered. The buoyance in Rikasa burst up as it declined its height of flying and came down to match Shravana’s head. Shravana started moving his arms like a stupid pendulum, Rikasa passed a muddled look.
Rikasa cleared its throat and excreted a florescent spittle on the ground that made Shravana trip over it, falling on the ground with a thump of his ample bottom. It made Rikasa burst in a laughter marathon and Shravana in a discourteous pain of revenge in buttocks. Shravana was concerted now, he ran like he was about to snatch his life back from Yamraja. His feet were merely kissing the ground; he was half running and half jetting. It was a moment of shock and awe for both of them �" Shravana’s feet left the slippery soil, he bounced and stumbled upon the ground after a considerable pause, about to fall, he was saved by the grip of a Targar leaf. This sudden incident abstracted Rikasa, as it was mystified by Shravana’s new-found talents (though it was just the luck). Shravana not leaving the moment of lifetime that Rikasa granted him, jumped and rolled towards it opening his tiny feminine palms and grabbing the scaly tail of that Rikasa. Unbelievable! A trophy laid in the sweaty palms of Shravana, the wonder lad.
He would now be called a little Shura by the children of his colony. He would now do a thing no Shura could ever do despite being an Immortal! He would cage a Rikasa...
Shravana was trembling from the joy of achievement. The almighty would name this day: the triumphant day of Shravana. Nobody would call Shravana the Manava Delicacy then. Folklores would be stormed by his name. Ah! Saccharine is the smell of triumph.
But where is the cage? It’s under the Targar tree. And where is the Targar tree? It’s about five hundred steps far…