with each love i cut loose i was never the same
Spice answers the rattling click with a sharp, knowing chitter of her own, the sound carrying bright and clear across the cold air. From her vantage, it’s easy enough to tell the other creature is young—talons still sharp but lacking the gravitas of age, posture more bluster than threat. She could take the hare if she wanted; the thought flickers across the bond, coloured with a mischievous curl of interest. But her belly is already full, and the stranger isn’t exactly inviting play.
With the boredom of a predator denied a chase, she begins to wheel lazily back toward Flora, the pitch of her voice softening into a musical trill.
Flora glances up, catching the sound more than the movement, and lifts one gloved hand in a vague wave toward the dragon’s bright shape against the sky. "Yeah, yeah, I hear you," she calls, the words puffing into the wind like little ghosts. "But we’ve got to keep moving before the Sugartide’s sails freeze solid." If they hadn't already.
With the boredom of a predator denied a chase, she begins to wheel lazily back toward Flora, the pitch of her voice softening into a musical trill.
Flora glances up, catching the sound more than the movement, and lifts one gloved hand in a vague wave toward the dragon’s bright shape against the sky. "Yeah, yeah, I hear you," she calls, the words puffing into the wind like little ghosts. "But we’ve got to keep moving before the Sugartide’s sails freeze solid." If they hadn't already.
