a lot of people will look at you
Aria
He made an effort to breathe and nodded. "Thank you." For the help, for knowing what to say. He meant it, gratitude thick in his voice and eyes, but they couldn't celebrate yet. He matched her pace as they moved, his steps falling into rhythm with hers. The noise of the crowds faded behind them, replaced by the creak of wood and the wash of tide against the stilts below. Above, Spice’s pale form slipped through the light like a thrown knife, small against the stretch of Haulani’s sky.
“I should’ve kept her closer,” he muttered, voice low and rough. “She’s smart, but she’s still just—” The rest caught in his throat. The word kitten sounded too much like helpless, and he couldn’t think of her that way. Not right now. Flora had a point; somewhere beneath the big round eyes and fluffy fur, there was generations of instinct coursing through Aria's blood. She would be okay. She had to be.
He scanned each street they passed, eyes flicking from shadowed alleys to rooftops where colorful laundry swayed in the wind. The air was damp with salt and smoke, the kind that clung to the back of the throat. He strained to listen for any signs; barking, yowling, crates toppling over.
He glanced up again, tracking Spice’s shape as she wheeled higher. A speck of silver in the bruised light, sharp against the clouds.
“C'mon,” he breathed, not sure if he was talking to himself, to the dragon, or to Aria out there in the maze of streets.
He quickened his pace, boots hitting the boards with renewed force, eyes following the line of Spice’s flight as if sheer will could pull her toward the right place. Somewhere ahead, he thought he heard a bark—distant, echoing through the alleys—and he felt his pulse quicken all over again.
High over the tangle of Haulani’s streets, Spice’s sharp eyes might catch it: a pale feline shape trapped in the mouth of an alley. Not too far from where the humans trailed, the dog had driven the snow leopard cub into a dead end. The hound crept forward, body coiled tight, every muscle trembling with the promise of violence like an arrow ready to loose. Aria did her best to look fierce—arched back, tail puffed—but truth be told, she wanted none of the smoke.
Damien
but only a few will see you
