[Tanakyll] Still Flying
She found him where she expected he would be, perched on the cliff above the smoking rubble. Gold eyes peered down at her as his form shifted against the stars and he wondered, aloud, what she wanted.
You know, she said. Take me up, Red.
It was not his name, he reminded her as they soared above the city. She knew that, and pointed out that he had never given her his real one. He had to agree.
He dropped a wing, forcing her to hold on tight to his spines as he glided on his side in a wide turn over the canyon. Warm fireglow twinkled below them, reflected in the cool blue above, and the night wind rushed by them, blurring her thoughts and her aches, tingling over her bare scalp.
He rose again, glancing back at her. Was everything alright?
No, she told him, leaning forward onto his neck, and ducked her head as they dived, leveling their course to skim over the pond. He didn't press the subject, and she thanked him for it, running a calloused hand over warm scales.
They rose again, and he brought them to rest where they had begun, heavy paws settling onto gritty sandstone. She slid off, moving to stand beside him, hand on his neck. So much destruction. He nodded, turning his head to look at her. Again? Yes.
It was only a little, a small bit of healing for her soul. But for now, it was enough.