Chapter Text
August 17th 2006 4:48 PM
The siren's hand was surprisingly smooth, he had come to notice. Even with the obvious presence of sharp scales, they offered his calloused hand no harm. Upon moving his fingers more, Zephyr found that he could feel some of the webbing between the siren's fingers, thin skin having shrunk to keep up his disguise. It felt comforting, to say the least. Maybe it was the presence of someone who could guide his soul for once. The sensation made him unconsciously shift closer, relishing the soft warmth that radiated off him.
The man was handsome, it would be a sin to say otherwise; long neck, broad shoulders, caring personality — even with how ironic it felt to say such given the man's obsession with driving the other crazy, it would still be a crime to state the contrary. After all, maybe there was a chance he had some care in the desolate place that called itself Phoenix's heart. Maybe in some alternate universe their first meeting could have been better, maybe his father wouldn't have been killed by a siren. Hopefully allowing him to feel more comfortable with the idea of befriending one.
Or even creating something more, but such was merely a dream trapped within his mind. The blanket of comfort imagination brought by a stupid thing that held his soul like a vice. Maybe somewhere deep within him, those feelings that sprouted the first time still held strong, but they've probably been stomped down by now. It would be ironic for them to have been. Or maybe he's just being sad after all, he does have a tendency for being depressed at random.
It felt so tragic to fall for the tragic sin of shamed love — a tale as old as time. A clueless being gives up their feeble heart for someone who is forbidden for him to like. It wasn't even shocking anymore, just a simple, cruel story, repeated across generations upon generations. Sometimes he wanted things to have been a bit different, if maybe there was an alternate reality existed where everything could have gone right and he could have actually cared, but with the reality he was forced to succumb to, such feeble dreams could only be carried in the soul of a young being; cursed by history, maybe even cursed by everything frankly, given the strange pathways life had started to take with him.
Perhaps the whole reason he even considered the siren was out of boredom. After all, being marked by some prophecies that was creates many years prior to your birth was not exhilarating. Perhaps he merely sought comfort in the gilled being, his stupid face an object of support to the sad, cold soul that resided in the winged. The siren probably once sought the same freedom the winged so deeply wishes for. Given whichever group he became an heir to, that contrasting bit of genes from foes would remain dormant in his blood, creating not an outsider nor friend. Decisions had become weights, rested upon his shoulders as if he held divinity within to provide such strength. Deciding upon the future, upon the war that was created — maybe the war was a distraction, perhaps he was supposed to go find his mother and whoever left that note in his pocket all those years ago. Was his fate bound to this wretched life or was it to go find them and bring their species liberty after whatever that genocide has left of their nobility. What had he done that left him responsible for the actions of a stranger's hands, not his own? It all felt incredibly savage, a random child born with a loving family that probably cared for him all those years ago. All for his father to be killed before him, and for him to fall tragically in love with the species that caused that death. Maybe his species had been in the wrong, maybe there was a reason for the genocide. But then again, it could just be greed, something humans seemed to love far too much. Maybe that was what made them human — greed — as ironic as it felt to say such about the very thing he hated more than anything in his life.
He was starting to consider the very thing that made a human soul human was: greed.
Was it greedy of him to desire freedom then? Was he merely following the wits of divine ruling? Becoming an unrecognizable being consumed by the disgusting slobber of never ending want; or was want a curse, cast upon his soul, something that would forever leave him incomplete while only harming those he loved. His father's death was caused by his want — or, had it? Or was it his own father's desire to comply? A four year old wouldn't force an adult to take him on a boat, maybe he'd whine, maybe cry, but if his father was as great as he imagined, he wouldn't give in.
The thought struck him like lightning. Perhaps he wasn't the one behind his father's end. Years upon decades of blaming himself for those few inevitable moments were questioned, their seemingly right story seen in a different font, not the scribbles of a broken child's heart.
He unconsciously gripped the hand of scales a bit tighter, a thumb gently rubbing into the smooth palm. The action caught the attention of the siren, his gaze shifting towards the worried winged. He didn't look well, frankly, his wings were up in a defensive manner and his face was stern with droplets of worry. It was a fairly natural sight, especially for the winged who was so keen on going through things alone, but it didn't stop his concern. It would be a lie to admit that he hadn't debated the man's words himself, constant "I'm fine"s and "leave me alone"s being his favorite phrases. The dark eye bags that hung below his emerald eyes, the small tapping his fingers would do against the siren's palm, all feeding into his concern. If only the man hadn't built such rigorous defenses, hiding away his scarred soul from any passers who merely wished to aid him. It all felt like he was punishing himself, and for what really? Although he can recall very little of the stories the man told him, he could remember the whole thing with his dad dying, given he was literally attacked over it once. Would it be problematic to claim he held no fault? Or would he end up being beaten up again, a very valid concern.
“Zephyr?” His voice was a hushed whisper in the cool afternoon air, gently cutting the quiet atmosphere like a warm knife through butter. His words were met with glossy eyes that bordered tears, quickly covered by a familiar mask of calmness the man seemed so keen on keeping. It was quite annoying, frankly, even if the siren's whole goal was to use him, or, was it anymore? seeing him so sad was, well, put in words, not exactly great. There truly wasn't anything he could say anyway.
“What?” He replied nonchalantly, a slight frown appearing on his tanned pale skin as eyes that glistened like the purest gemstones looked into his soul. Phoenix took a moment, glancing towards the three siblings who were casually walking off before turning back to him, eyebrows furrowing.
“Something's on your mind” he claimed, voice harsh and rigid with his chocked anger. He could feel the slight sensation of the winged's fingers tapping against his palm again, the man's mouth becoming a straight line as those pure eyes widened in their sockets. He then, petulant as he was, shook his head again, side eyeing the siren before replying.
“Why are you so keen on forcing yourself into business that doesn't involve you? My expression shouldn't concern you in any manner, keep your hands away, siren.” The final words stung, Phoenix's eyebrows furrowing further as he now glared at the winged man. Just how was this guy able to change his personality so fast? He swore two seconds ago he was all lovey-dovey as needed and now he was pissed again. Figuring out how to bypass this guy's anger was going to be hard.
“Geez, why are you always so pissed off? I swear two seconds ago we were having something.” He complained like a child, pouting before dramatically crossing his arms. The winged took a moment, his eyebrows furrowing but without anger this time, more like bottled frustration. He glanced at Phoenix for a moment before shaking his head dramatically, eyes returning to the siblings in front of him.
“Personal” he stated, his wings covering his face. The siren looked at him before deflating like a balloon, using his free hand to push aside the wings that covered those pure eyes, looking at him with care. “Why are you so keen on learning about me?” He hissed, catching the attention of Eira who turned around.
“Why are you touching his wings? You know wings are very sensitive! Only those close can touch wings! You're being very rude Mr. Phoenix” she reprimanded him, rutting her finger like an adult. “I can't believe an eleven year old has to tell you this! It's basic respect” she gutted, looking at him as if awaiting an apology.
“Uhm” he paused, looking at the small girl that was adorned with blue before thinking. He slowly pulled both hands away from Zephyr and cleared his throat “sorry?” His voice came out shaky, ironically.
“Wow, the great general of the Pyro Gill's getting scolded by a child, the jokes write themselves.” Zephyr whispered, smiling smugly as he could practically feel the anger coming from Phoenix. The siren paused for a moment, eyebrows furrowed as he stated at the winged before pouting and rolling his eyes, looking ahead. “You really do act like a child.”
“No I don't? Where are you getting that from??” He demanded, offense written on his features only to earn a soft chuckle from the winged man, his eyes on the sky.
“Is the sky blue?” He asked, making the man pause. He took a moment, his hair shifting as his fins moved in curiosity. He looked up at the sky for a moment, thinking before realizing what the other just made him do. His face turned bright red like a tomato, mouth wide open.
“You! I know what you're doing! You're trying to prove me as a gullible man!” He hissed, eyeing the winged who shrugged nonchalantly once more. He looked forward, almost grinning as heat ebbed from the angry siren.
“Calm your anger before you say something inappropriate around my underage siblings” he made sure to place emphasis on the underage portion. The siren now admitted defeat, his confident act diminishing to silence as he looked off, choosing that the danger of speaking any more outweighed any chance to argue his claim. He simply looked down at the empty pale hand behind him and chose to gently take it again, intertwining his fingers into the winged's. He was met with silence but clear judgement, Zephyr glancing at him before sighing yet allowing it.
“Oooo! Chocolates” Zelig called out, making the eldest realize how far he had strayed off. His eyes quickly glanced at Phoenix, eyes signaling to hurry up. The siren nodded his head, increasing his own pace to catch up to the three.
“Where? What chocolates?” Asked Eira, curiously looking towards where the older was looking. “Woah” she mumbled, noticing the vendor that held enough sugar to send anyone into a coma. Unsurprisingly, such a sight attracted kids of younger ages like magnets, their eyes wide with intrigue as they plodder towards it. Zephyr finally managed to catch up, politely maneuvering himself through heaps of people.
The red bird merely sighed at the sight, his own taste buds having adjusted to dislike the sweetness of sugar lined candy. He glanced at the eldest, his eyes a plea to leave, only to be met with a shrug and gesture towards the two excited siblings. He sighed softly, understanding his begging would remain unanswered, choosing to slump in defeat.
As they entered the stall a sweet aroma assaulted the siren, twisting over to cough the scent that just scorched his lungs. He coughed a bit more before looking up, his scent slowly adjusting to the strong smell. Phoenix held a hand over his nose, his eyes slightly closed as he navigated towards Zephyr. The man was on his phone, ironically, humming to himself as he texted someone unknown to the siren. With his curiosity and protective instincts, but his ego was too high to admit such he glanced at the name and text.
His mouth became a thin line as he saw “Celeste (≡^∇^≡)” in bold letters at the top. Phoenix looked into the man's eyes quietly, only to be met with a soft smile that was alien. Their conversation was something along the lines of hanging out with someone else by the name of Atlantis on the weekend, the two names vaguely familiar. His ruby red glare kept changing from the screen to the winged as if hoping to find a hint of discomfort similar to the one given to him, only to find the man genuinely happy. It would be a lie to say he didn't feel a stab of jealousy, the fins beneath his clothing and hair moving upwards as if standing on guard.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” A soft voice cut through the air, the eyes that were just locked on the screen shifting towards the siren who seemed to be right up in his face. The smile he was giving the phone earlier was gone, replaced by a stern expression that held hints of discomfort. The siren opened and closed his mouth awkwardly as he tried to find the words to explain to himself, all for his mouth to feel insanely dry. His hand went up to rub his neck, eyes downcast with shame.
“Uhm, just curious, I guess” he excused himself, carefully lifting his gaze to meet the emerald one. He was met with a soft exhale, the wings on the man's head shifting as his gaze went down towards the phone again.
“Celeste is my friend who I go sail boating with, so is Atlantis. I don't know what's so intriguing.” He looked back to him, waiting for a reaction before pulling up a picture and showing him a photo of them all together. He examined them, eyebrows furrowing as he noticed the blue and purple figures were extremely familiar, then, it struck him. He physically retorted back, eyes wide as he glanced at Zephyr then back at the photo, earning a confused look. “What is it?”
“Uhm” was all he could muster, realizing what could be happening right now. Those two are likely planning to kill the winged and finally end them all, they were specifically targeting Zephyr. He was in danger. He had to do something.
“You're hiding something again” the siren could not understand how he spoke so calmly now of all times, his posture still nonchalantly as he quietly hummed a tune to his own ears.
“Hydro Gills” was all he could state, earning a cocked eyebrow followed by a breathless laugh, the man shaking his head. He playfully reached up a hand to flick Phoenix's forehead, sticking out his tongue. The siren stepped back, eyebrows furrowing further as he stared at him, watching as the winged's posture shifted from carefree to concerned.
“Hydro Gills? Are you claiming my friends are involved in your war thing?” He asked, tilting his head. Shockingly, the siren couldn't detect any hints of anger in his voice, instead genuine curiosity was what enveloped the sweet tone, emerald eyes shining. He could see his own reflection, a weak one frankly, one that held fear of knowing something may happen and he had little ability to protect. It felt degrading, it made him feel weak.
“Listen, those two, they look an awful lot like one of their generals and Royal healers, I know of them because those two are awfully problematic together. I don't know if they're them, but I have the suspicion they may be.” He stated, his voice cracking.
“Hm” he paused, looking at the phone screen. “You haven't told me much of them yet, have you?” He asked, setting his phone down on a table before shifting himself to look at the siren.
“Of who?” He asked cluelessly, eyebrows lifting in confusion. Zephyr deadpanned, letting out an awfully dramatic groan.
“The Hydro Gills, you're always mentioning them due to the war and all. I can remember you mentioning something about their way of hunting but…” he paused, embarrassed “I forgot what you said exactly. You know your voice is too loud sometimes, I must cover my ears to have even the slightest shiver of hope to keep my hearing.” He stated sarcastically, crossing his arms before staring at the man, tapping his foot.
“Damn you, I'm not that loud” he sighed dramatically “okay okay, let me think” he mumbled, nodding quickly. He checked to make sure the winged's siblings were still distracted before pulling him closer, his tone becoming one of a hushed bee. “Oh I see why, maybe then you can find the signs or something” he mumbled, glancing around like he was spilling top secret government information, maybe he was. “They usually integrate themselves in human society, then bring those most trusted to the seaside and” he gestured to cutting his neck, earning a confused look. “Then they never show up again so they can't get blamed for their deals, that's why their fins are so smooth and mine are so sharp, they use their beauty, I use my voice.”
“Huh” the man mumbled in intrigue, tapping his chin before tilting his head. “Intriguing, if I must say so, I never imagined that was why you both looked so different” he glanced down.
“That's why I also think those two may be mermaids, they could be purposely using sail boating to get you used to the water, then one day they randomly enter it and you can't escape.” The pristine white wings shuffled as he considered it, shaking his head in understanding.
“Zephyr!” Eira ran up to him, a bag of chocolates in her hand, grinning enthusiastically. “All of us agreed these sound good!” She pointed to the label, “chocolate with smooth caramel filling” stated on the bag. The bites themselves were tiny, probably smaller than his own earrings.
“All of you? Even Robin?” He asked curiously only to receive nodding, glancing towards the red bird earned him a second approving nodding, catching him by surprise. Phoenix nodded, gesturing towards the cashier after the blue one and pulling out the remaining cash.
“That'll be 4.50” the man stated, his outfit consisting of a white polo that was too thick to be worn in the hot weather of the day. He wore a genuine smile, a small tag on said polo that stated “chocolateer” with a small drawing of himself holding a whisk covered in what presumed to be chocolate. He wore a chef's hat, except his had a brown trim that looked like dripping chocolate. Zephyr nodded, paying the money and receiving the change, humming before gesturing to the four to leave the stall.
He stayed a moment further, mostly to set the money back in his bag neatly. He caught a glimpse of the man again, noticing a light blue scale on his neck that was covered by a strand of hair. The man paused, realizing he probably noticed and quickly moved the collar up to cover it, chuckling quietly. Zephyr tilted his head, taking a moment before whispering “you're one of the Cryo Gills, aren't you?” He received a slow nod, the man's eyes wide as he looked at him.
The winged looked towards the side, his eyes shifted on the man's arms that also held some webbing similar to Phoenix's. “I know you're probably not a noble, but please, if you have any ability, aid the Pyro Gills against the Hydro ones.” He mumbled quietly. The man stayed silent, only returning a sympathetic nod.
With that Zephyr left quickly, not sharing another word with the merfolk that resided in the tent. He exited to see that the group had left, his eyebrows furrowing before noticing that Eira was talking to someone enthusiastically, giggling as she held the girl's hand and talked about random things. He shook his head, chuckling softly before walking up to her.
“Eira, I thought I told you to warn me before you run off somewhere.” He lectured, shaking his head. He looked up at the man who appeared to be the younger's dad, holding out hsinhand to shake it. “Ah, I presume you're her father?” He gestured to the young white and pink girl who seemed to be far too distracted talking to the white and blue one.
“Yessssss, I am.” He stated, suspicion in his stare as he examined the scrawnier winged boy. “Who are you? I thought the blue one had a father, the brown man with the antersssss” he questioned.
“Ah, I'm her older older older brother, as she calls me.” He chuckled, feeling the warm and scaled hand take his in a firm hand shake. “My name is Zephyr, pleasure to meet you” he paused, waiting for a name.
“Pierce, father of Leilani.” He stated, the large wings behind his back adjusting. He had pink scales that reflected light similar to the way Phoenix's did, his eyes black yet holding the slightest hint of red. His form was sturdy, rather muscular for a man… Shorter of height. He was still tall, but shorter than Yong. Maybe it was a mistake comparing everyone to Yong, given the man was freakishly tall.
He let go of the hand shake, looking back to the three. Robin and Zelig were merely glancing around, clearly growing bored of the extensive interaction between the two young girls. He chuckles at the sight, shaking his head and looking towards Phoenix only to find him still, lips and face contorted in the way they always did when he was scared. His fins were closely stuck against his body as if making himself look smaller to avoid the dragon man's attention. The disguise did not work, black and piercing eyes staring into the man's soul with something unfamiliar to Zephyr, maybe it was longing.
With a second take, the two men looked awfully similar, both scales like opals, sharp eyes that gazed into the soul, similar markings appeared on the thin membrane of the man's wings as did the ones on the siren's fins. He could recall Phoenix once mentioning he was part dragon and siren, but was it really possible that… ?
“It's getting late,” Robin commented, looking up at the dimming night sky. “We should start heading home if we don't want Aarav to question us like criminals” he argued, crossing his arms and gazing at the eldest.
“Fair, we should make haste before the sun completely sets, then we'll be fried meat.” He chuckled at his own joke, gesturing for the four to start moving. Zephyr nodded, taking Phoenix's arm only to be met with a feeling like the one of pulling a statue, making him pause. The man was still in a state of shock, somewhat even shaking now with concerning vigour. Zephyr furrowed his brows, pulling him a long while mumbling something. It finally got to him, the siren glancing around like a reincarnated soul and letting out a soft exhale of relief, his gaze downcast as he moved away.
“Eira, c’mon, we have to go” he gestured for her to follow him, earning a soft and frankly disappointed groan as she crossed her arms dramatically and began to walk off, stomping with anger. The royal winged found the sight profoundly amusing, chuckling to himself as he kept gesturing to her to walk forward. The sun made its glorious journey under the horizon for its slumber as the soft plod of steps filled the air, a calming feeling amongst the group. Zephyr had his wings against his head, watching the three siblings in front of him with an unusual calmness, his heart not in the usual state of stress. They finally made their way to an intersection, Zephyr pausing at it before turning towards Phoenix, looking at the man as he quietly walked off in another direction, tilting his head. “Oh no you don't” he stated, grabbing the man's hand and making him look at him “what happened to proper farewells?”
The siren paused, looking at the hand then back at him, his mouth being held open silently. “Uhm, bye?” He practically asked, his voice one of confusion as his fins adjusted. Zephyr nodded, smiling now and letting him go, walking the opposite direction and waving.
“Farewell, Phoenix”
-
August 18th 2006 12:39 AM
Zephyr's mouth was held in a thin line as he looked at the coat before him, the one too small to even fit his hand anymore. He had carefully stitched up all the loose ends, staring at it like the thing would grow a mouth and uncover all the secrets of the past, he was disappointed. He searched inside the pockets again, only pulling out some lint and a feather. He glanced at the feather, too sturdy to be one produced by a young child's keratin. He brushes his hands over it, examining the pattern that lined its sides smoothly. His wings adjusted again, mind filling with the idea that it could in fact somehow be one of his parents. He picked it up, examining it closer to see it was somehow a whole shade lighter than his own. His memories had told him his mother once possessed the lightest feathers of all winged, deemed to be the purest heir. Could it truly be?
He placed his nose against it like a cat, sniffing the small bristles towards his nose to try and find a scent. It was ironic, the idea of a smell remaining on a feather for what? 14 years? Yet he felt an overwhelming calm when the feather brushed against his face. He could recall something in Yong's book talking about winged and something about feather recognition. About how there was a tradition of parental figures and partners sticking their feathers into each other's wings and hair to provide a sense of comfort and as a claim. Somewhere in those words it had mentioned the concept of each winged having their own unique scent, similar to that of a cat. He felt the feather against his skin again, trying to confirm to his mind that the sensation was real.
A tear pricked the side of green eyes, his face becoming an embarrassing red as he gazed at the seemingly useless feather. The idea was what had him crying, the idea that this could be the final remaining hint of his mother's existence, it hit hard. He held it tight against his chest, softly sniffling and looking at it again as if expecting his mother to materialize out of thin air, a stupid wish.
“Mother” his voice came out cracked and pathetically weak “mother, I miss you” he stated, holding the feather against his chest. “I miss you mother” he repeated as if his first call to heaven was not enough in itself. He refused to look at the feather again, grief overtaking his heart as he sobbed, wiping away tears pathetically. “I miss you” he blabbered incoherently, his own feathers covering the pathetic expression that lined a tear covered face.
Warm wings enveloped a small form, soft childish giggles coming from behind the large limbs, a head poking out to see his father sitting there, smiling. He kept up the game of peek-a-boo, careful not to hurt his mother's large wings. Suddenly he was covered, letting out a squeal of shock before he was pulled back into a lap, one that held familiar warmth. His mother, her face clear now, gazed back. Soft blue eyes, white hair with the slightest traces of pink, her own skin paler than his. Her face wings somehow radiated a blue aura, illuminating her figure that gazed down at him. He could see her, fully, perfectly.
“Zephyr” a warm voice, one filled with love. It stroked his cheek, the hand warm. Her eyes remained open only for him, the pupil staring back “oh, how beautiful you are, Zephyr.” She whispered into his ear, stroking through the brown locks, ones he inherited from his father. He could feel it, every scratch her nails did on his head, their forms softly grazing the sensitive skin, the way she hummed a tune and her whole body vibrated, the way her wings felt real.
He felt his own body now, one if a grown man, laying in his mother's lap just as peacefully as it once had. She looked at him with the same love, the same, sweet smile. “Zephyr, you've grown” he had, he had a lot, he had learned many things, he had become an adult. Yet, seeing his mother, that childish grin remained, reading the softest chuckle from the woman adorned in soft pink and white. “My dear Zephyr” she mumbled again. He wondered if those are the only words of hers that he can actually recall.
He was forced back into reality quite violently, his door opening and Eira standing there, a teddy in her hand and a sorrowful expression lining her face. She noticed his stained cheeks, tilting her head curiously before looking at him, inching forward and popping herself beside him.
“Why so sad?” She asked curiously, fiddling with the ears of the stuffed bear as she examined her brother's expression. He slowly showed her the white feather, earning a curious look as she examined it, tilting her head “is it yours? Are you crying over your own feather?"
“My moms” he corrected, earning a quiet “oh” as she examined it with more respect, blinking slowly “I found it in my childhood jacket” he murmured, looking at it again. She frowned in response, crawling closer and hugging him tightly.
“It will all be okay, I know she's proud of you” the youngest mumbled, holding him tight as she whispered the sweet nothing in his ears. As much as he wished to believe it, he couldn't, merely holding her tightly against his chest as he cried again. She didn't move, knowing of his sensitive state and merely choosing to stay still so as to not scare him, her body like an anchor during the turmoil of feelings.
“I miss her, Eira” he whispered back, maneuvering her so she laid right beside him “I miss her a lot.”
“I miss my mom often, I know she was a great lady” she replied, smiling softly “I remember she made this yummy apple pie for Zelig and I! The crust was always crunchy and the apples were drowned in cinnamon just as we loved it!” She exclaimed, giggling childishly.
“Oh really?” He asked, wiping away a stray tear as he gazed down at her, smiling. “Was the thrust thick?” He asked, finding the change of topics to be comforting.
“Not too thick, she knew Zelig and I loveddd the apple filling so she made sure to add lots of it instead! Sometimes I'd eat so fast I got hiccups and he'd laugh at me.” She complained, pouting before scrunching up her nose.
“What about Robin? Did he like this apple pie?” He asked curiously, adjusting himself so that he still held the feather close but he could gaze at his younger sister now with more comfort.
“No, he liked the blueberry one, it was a lot less sweet and more tart.” She commented, tapping her chin before shrugging “he's so boring, he hates everything nice! Anything that isn't exactly to his liking he hates!” She complained, shaking her head dramatically.
“Ohhh, what a big heap of sadness I see.” He chuckled, shaking his head “I see your mom made many pies, didn't she?” He joked, hooping her nose to receive a giggle.
“Many! One a week! She'd give them to everyone, including neighbors!” She licked her lips at the thought “she had her own cookbook with the super secret blend of dough to make the perfect pie crust, I think I can remember it if I think hard enough.” She made a show of thinking, gripping her head and making a frustrated noise.
“I see, it would've been great to know her” he smiled, looking off into the air quietly. He was met with a shrug from the younger, shifting herself to now look at him before grinning almost evilly.
“What about your mom? You never talk to any of us about her and I've always been so curious!” She exclaimed, smiling as she made herself comfortable on the floor beside him.
“She was a great woman, smart, kind, beautiful…” he thought back to her for a moment, sighing softly before sighing “she liked to sing sometimes, usually just lullabies to me. One time I caught her singing her heart out in the kitchen while cooking, it was beautiful.” He chuckled.
“Woah! She sounds so cool!” Eira exclaimed, giggling “I want to be like her someday!”
“Maybe you will” he mumbled softly to himself, looking at the time on his phone quickly before shaking his head “you should go to sleep now, I'm assuming that's why you came in here?”
“Uhhhh… yeah” she answered, chuckling awkwardly. She sighed dramatically, crossing her arms and rolling over to look up at the ceiling “I was having fun talking about moms!”
“We can do that again tomorrow, for now, you need to get your little butt to sleep” he teased, earning a giggle as she shot up “or else…” he threatened to tickle her by moving his fingers, earning a giggle as she ran out of his room and straight to hers. Zephyr follows behind at a slower pace on purpose making it back into her room to find her tucked into her bed. He chuckled, turning off the lights in her room and shaking his head. “You won this time, the tickle monster will not be so soaring next time!” He warned.
“He can sure try then!” She giggled, shuffling a bit deeper into the covers “goodnight Zephyr!"
“Goodnight, Eira” he slowly shut the door, a smile on his face as he trudged back, the feather now peacefully residing in his pocket, perfect as ever.
The winged felt sleep come easy that night.