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The ocelot drifted down from the sky, wingless, riding the air currents she controlled. The Typhoon’s medic often traveled this way for the convenience, though she did not know if any others who could levitate rather than fly. Most animals who mastered their power over the air usually had wings themselves. But Rosemary also considered animals with air elemental magic might never want to try flying without wings.

Either way, she spotted the three-tailed, two-winged canine. His scent carried Tanglewoods, which set her at ease. Even with tensions between the groups at a low, Rosemary had lived through too much shit to ever trust the Pitt or the Coalition of the Condemned. No matter that Stryker and Ninazu died. Or Jervis and Vale disappeared. There would always be war, the question was when.

“You’re in the right place. This must be your first time coming to a monthly meeting? They’re usually fairly empty, and it’s mostly leaders staring at each other for several minutes trying not to say anything. So these are usually boring—though there was this gorey monster which appeared, for a time, fucking everything up.” Rosemary hadn’t always been in attendance for those, but she couldn’t not hear about it when it roosted on her sister’s horns before starting a fight.

“Anyway, I’m Rosemary Roux. From the Typhoon.” The ocelot’s four eyes zeroed in on Eon, briefly, before the smaller pair wandered off to glance at the arrivals trickling in.

PEACEFALL

peace comes at dawn, but yours comes at night