There's a hole in my heart that's bleeding
High above the sea, Noah rode air where the sky paled toward white. In griffin form, his size was impossible to miss--wings stretched wide, feathers bleached nearly bone bright by sun and salt, his silhouette vast enough to be mistaken for cloud or wyrm or even some other dangeros thing from a distance. He held his position with minimal movement, letting the wind do most of the work. He was merely a pale mass suspended against the endless blue, touching the edges of the white.
From here, the world was small.
The ocean rolled in slow, patient rhythms beneath him. There was movement, slightly to hsi west. A skyship, its sails unfurling as it angled closer to his path. Noah tilted his head, glacier eyes narrowing as he watched its approach. He did not recognize it, an the distance stripped away details, reduing it only to intent which Noah was not going to mistake over these oceans again.
He shifted slightly, a single wing flexing. Within him caution stirred, but not alarm. A low, resonant sound rolled from his chest, not a threat so much as an announcement. The call carried on the wind, deep enough to be felt as much as heard, a vibration through open sky and open water alike. He banked slowly, deliberately, ensuring his form remained visible and unmistakably real. Massive though he was, his movements were controlled, almost lazy, aware of how easily he could inspire fear in this form.
But its given me strength I needed to carry on
