Noah did not move at the first growled warning. He remained where he was, talons curled into the stone, wings tight to his sides as if any loosening might let something vital spill out of him. The ramphire’s panic rippled through the air sharp and sour, and Noah angled his head away instinctively, lowering his face, making himself smaller despite his size. Only then did he shift his weight slightly, feathers whispering as one wing eased outward and settled again. It was a deliberate, quiet gesture of apology rather than retreat. His eyes tracked Grimm’s hands instead of the man himself.
I’m not here for it, he said at last, glacier eyes flicking to the man's. Or for you. A pause, heavier than silence. I came to pray.The words felt insufficient, thin as the first breath of ice over deep, churning water. He resettled himself more fully on the stone, tail flicking once before stilling, the heat now starting to register on his back from the unrelenting sun of Longheat.
I’m not here for it, he said at last, glacier eyes flicking to the man's. Or for you. A pause, heavier than silence. I came to pray.The words felt insufficient, thin as the first breath of ice over deep, churning water. He resettled himself more fully on the stone, tail flicking once before stilling, the heat now starting to register on his back from the unrelenting sun of Longheat.
noah
you touched my heavy heart and made it light
