Soren
You have got that face that just says
He circled once, casting a long shadow over the cracked earth, then folded his wings and dove. Heat peeled past him, the wind catching the curve of his body as he plummeted in silence, a streak of smoke and dark gold. His cry had already reached her—Aithne, swift-footed, flame-hearted, her outline flickering with heat mirage as she closed in.
Soren pulled up just before impact, the downdraft stirring ash and sparks from the ground. In the moment between wingbeat and stillness, he locked eyes on the largest of the herd: a stag ablaze with slow-burning fire, its antlers like kindled branches against the haze. It had seen him. Good.
He flared his wings wide and tilted them, a sharp angle—a signal. There. He had it's attention so that his companion could go for her target.
Soren pulled up just before impact, the downdraft stirring ash and sparks from the ground. In the moment between wingbeat and stillness, he locked eyes on the largest of the herd: a stag ablaze with slow-burning fire, its antlers like kindled branches against the haze. It had seen him. Good.
He flared his wings wide and tilted them, a sharp angle—a signal. There. He had it's attention so that his companion could go for her target.
"Baby, I was made to break your heart"
