Maea
Stars, hide your fires
It was the wind whistling over membranous wings that alerted her to the presence of something else nearby. It was familiar, somehow, yet she couldn't place it for the longest time. The volume was too different, more like a rumble of distant thunder than the drumming push against her eardrums she had come to associate with Thalassa in flight. Whatever this was, it was bigger.
Casting a thoughtful glance over the edge of the cliff, she only slowly registered the dark shape for what it was. When the dragon broke through the mist and shot past her with some bloody and dying thing in its claws the impact was like nothing Maea had felt before. Save possibly in the presence of gods. Never before had she seen a full-sized dragon this close. Awestruck and thoroughly distracted from her internal struggles, impulse threw caution to the wind. Shifting into a gore crow she tore after the dragon, wanting – no needing - to see it again, from up close. Possibly that was the least intelligent decision she had ever made in any iteration of her life, but in that moment, she didn't care.
Descending after it, she saw the dragon search for a place to land and danced on the turbulent air currents generated by those massive wings. It was so big! (that's what she said), and so utterly unconcerned with anything but its own business that she didn't even worry about being noticed.
Possibly it was a touch fatalistic, but Maea had died enough times to know that if this thing wanted her gone, she wouldn't even have time to notice before she was back in Mort's Halls.
Casting a thoughtful glance over the edge of the cliff, she only slowly registered the dark shape for what it was. When the dragon broke through the mist and shot past her with some bloody and dying thing in its claws the impact was like nothing Maea had felt before. Save possibly in the presence of gods. Never before had she seen a full-sized dragon this close. Awestruck and thoroughly distracted from her internal struggles, impulse threw caution to the wind. Shifting into a gore crow she tore after the dragon, wanting – no needing - to see it again, from up close. Possibly that was the least intelligent decision she had ever made in any iteration of her life, but in that moment, she didn't care.
Descending after it, she saw the dragon search for a place to land and danced on the turbulent air currents generated by those massive wings. It was so big! (that's what she said), and so utterly unconcerned with anything but its own business that she didn't even worry about being noticed.
Possibly it was a touch fatalistic, but Maea had died enough times to know that if this thing wanted her gone, she wouldn't even have time to notice before she was back in Mort's Halls.
Let not light see my black and deep desires
