Noah
Crooked souls trying to stay up straight
Dry eyes in the pouring rain
Dry eyes in the pouring rain
Noah stood at the edge of the arena a moment longer in griffin form, chest heaving, feathers slowly settling back into place. Zavien had managed to pull a few along with a good clump of mane on his exit. The absence of Zavien’s weight felt strange now — the contest finished, the storm spent. Victory hummed through him, but there was still concern lacing through it as he watched Zavien in the dust.
With a slow exhale, he shifted. The transition left him warm and slightly breathless in the Longheat sun, hair damp at his temples. Noah crossed the arena in long strides, offering a steady hand once he reached him. His glacier eyes searched quickly for signs of real injury before settling into something softer, the edge of a sheepish grin tugging across his mouth. “You alright?” he asked. “Tell me that was still fun, and that you’re not planning revenge already.”
He huffed a quiet, breathy laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as they walked back towards Deimos and Erebos, pace unhurried.
With a slow exhale, he shifted. The transition left him warm and slightly breathless in the Longheat sun, hair damp at his temples. Noah crossed the arena in long strides, offering a steady hand once he reached him. His glacier eyes searched quickly for signs of real injury before settling into something softer, the edge of a sheepish grin tugging across his mouth. “You alright?” he asked. “Tell me that was still fun, and that you’re not planning revenge already.”
He huffed a quiet, breathy laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as they walked back towards Deimos and Erebos, pace unhurried.
While the shadow proves the sunshine
