Burning it Down

YOU SAID THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT THE MOON IT ROSE TOO SOON AND WE'RE DOING WHAT WE SHOULD An owl hears the call, and responds. On star-spangled wings the barn owl flies, drawn to a summons she knows as Jigano, for she would know him wherever he was. She has seen the fire blooming in the distance, rising smoke swirling into the sky. Fires are common in LongHeat, a sign of upcoming rebirth, but to see one in the Woodland is more concerning, for the trees usually could withstand flinthopper assault. Narrowing avian eyes Amalia beat her wings, a speck of white against the smoke marking Jigano clearly in the sky. She comes up alongside him in a flurry of feathers, her greater size dwarfing the jays at his side. What's the plan? Amalia questions, not wasting time with pleasantries, unnecessary questions, introductions. He will know it is her by the pulse of her mind, the familiar anxiety and affection, the stubborn grit. Shifting her wings, she sets off in a circle, wanting to survey the extent of the fire and see how much, if any, is already contained. a m a l i a You said it's life that moves too much We're losing touch But I'm not losing you