the stories i could tell
There was no flame of course, but Hadama couldn't see that. Really it was the breeze the owl was trying to stifle. Moving behind its curtain of feathers, the small creature began to etch something into the stand with its beak. After a few moments of bobbing around (the addition of the merman's hands didn't seem to bother the avian at all), the creature tucked its wings against its small body and took a step back.
There, drawn crudely in the sand seemed to be the top of a bottle floating in the water (if the wavy parallel lines beneath it were to be believed).
For just a moment the owl paused, staring intently at Hadama, before taking wing and flying out over the ocean.
There, drawn crudely in the sand seemed to be the top of a bottle floating in the water (if the wavy parallel lines beneath it were to be believed).
For just a moment the owl paused, staring intently at Hadama, before taking wing and flying out over the ocean.
