Soren
You have got that face that just says
Soren paused mid-preen, feathers still flared wide, one leg lifted as he cleaned. The soft crunch of approaching footsteps caught his attention before the scent did. His head tilted sharply, fiery eyes locking onto the woman who emerged from the wellhouse. He recognized the way she moved, careful but not afraid--it was a similar air to his grandmother's gait.
His feathers ruffled.
Soren didn’t fly off. Instead, he watched.
Curious.
Then, as if remembering himself, he gave a slow blink and turned his head just so—offering her his profile, all avian radiance and just slightly smug.
This was his perch now.
He’d found the well first.
Parting it slightly, a soft hiss curled from his beak. It sounded almost like laughter. Then he clicked it shut, tail flicking, and waited to see what she would do next.
His feathers ruffled.
Soren didn’t fly off. Instead, he watched.
Curious.
Then, as if remembering himself, he gave a slow blink and turned his head just so—offering her his profile, all avian radiance and just slightly smug.
This was his perch now.
He’d found the well first.
Parting it slightly, a soft hiss curled from his beak. It sounded almost like laughter. Then he clicked it shut, tail flicking, and waited to see what she would do next.
"Baby, I was made to break your heart"
