patient is the night | group of joiners

[deimos]

Finding Beck was one idea that Bridget hadn't quite leaned into herself. But the rest of them were sure, so the woman had agreed. The travel was easy enough for the falcon- flying overhead, at a lazy pace, wings gently beating to keep time with the footsteps of those below her. If she wasn't flying, her body was resting upon the back of the ursid, whether or not she was accepted. But, upon the group reaching the swamp, her feathers were ruffled gently.

There was a certain darkness not only here, but in the air, her feathers puffing onto their ends and her eyes shifting about warily. She could see, well enough, the falcon's eyes piercing the dark. She clacked her beak together, slowly lowering herself down onto Ambrose's back once again, observing the group of mismatched animals. She turned her gaze back forward, raising her soft voice to join into the conversation.

"He'll be here." She spoke, despite being soft spoken, she felt as if he was here. Something in the marrow of her empty bones, she could tell he was here.

"SPEECH"

code by spacexual