Though still shaky when the thermals let her fall, afraid to tumble to the ground to her death, she flew. Each day brought her higher, pushing the muscles of her growing wings steadily before spiraling back to the ground. Her shoulders burned at evening each day, wings trembling from exertion, but the pain and sweat did not once cause her to deter. She was a force of will, a flame unquenched, and that will would not bend for any mortal, bodily groans. Aithniel landed, cloven hooves touching down in the sand gracefully as she reached the water’s surface, drinking heartily from the cool liquid. The sun overhead was bearing down, a sign from her father that he would burn the world down – he had the power to heat the very land on which she stood into oblivion. Beautiful.

Words caught her attention, spoken by a familiar voice. Aithniel snapped her head up, silver, hardened eyes narrowing as she saw the familiar form of Cirrus – the one who taught her how to fly. Now they were similar in height with the fire child only shy of her withers, but Cirrus was also stockier, body thicker and more muscular than Aith could ever hope to be. The demi-god still held the regal, slender blood of her father, giving her a leggy, narrow look only marred by whatever blood her mother held, adding a dash of grit to an otherwise streamlined physique. Quite oppositely, Cirrus was strong and lean, an interesting combination of potency and speed, and from the curve of their wings, Aithniel would guess that her advantage would be precision flying – only she had just learned how.

In all ways, she was inferior at this point in her life, but that did not stop her from grinning, black painted lips curling up into a satisfied smirk. “Maybe not so little anymore,” she replied roughly, lifting her neck as if to display her form which leapt into adulthood and was letting go of adolescence. Aithniel approached Cirrus with confidence, and she snorted in amusement at her friend’s next question. Her silver eyes softened, briefly expressing the gratefulness she felt for being taught how to fly. Such a gesture was new for Aithniel, and she smiled genuinely. “Much better, I think. Still learning, but you taught me well.” The fire child took a few sweeping steps back, matching the playfulness of Cirrus’ gaze.

“Why, you want to find out how good of a teacher you are?” she taunted playfully, still grinning and spreading her wings. Aithniel lowered her neck, balancing with a widened stance as her lion’s tail curled seductively around her hocks. Without much warning, she lunged for Cirrus, using her wings to balance as she reared up, lashing her front hooves toward her friend’s shoulder. Then, she jumped into the air, wings straining to catch the wind and lift her upwards. Due to the steep angle, she barely managed to get into the air before spiraling downward, but she lashed out with her freed hind hooves anyway, wondering if she would catch Cirrus on the back.

Seconds later she landed and bounded off, grinning over her shoulder.

[[(526 words) (1/3)
-- Aithniel lunges toward Cirrus then rears and tries to strike her with her front hooves
-- lunges in the air and tries to kick her
-- lands and runs off like a cheeky bastard :P

I LOVE THIS
]]

@[Cirrus]