Cirrus the WindDancer

Cirrus was renewed, rebuilt. It was like when one lost a tooth and ran their tongue over the hole left behind - sometimes the vacant space would become infected, it would become diseased, unwell, and cause general havoc across the host's entire self. But, the infection had finally been washed away, the jagged edges of the abyss left behind had smoothed over - it had taken years and the intervention of a God, but then, her bond with Sitka was meant to last forever (- and surely it would pass the test of time and death, surely she would see him again when her time to depart this world came, she would find his soul again and they would be bound when they existed in the same dimension once more). And the scar was still there - the hole would never fade, never be filled, but at least it would not continually chip away at the edges, at least it wouldn't infect the rest of her with its abysmal darkness - at least now, she felt like she might have a chance at living, even if without Sitka by her side.

The sun seemed to be restored back in the sky, the weather cleared, as she looked to him, hope shining through the clouds above and upon her face. He bent a great wing out towards her, and she was shocked, surprised, to behold the gift he had there for her - it seemed to be spun from gold and earth, borrowing colours from the Earth Lord himself, with delicate leaves and stones that clearly signified who had crafted it. "M'lord," was all she could say, as the God affixed the precious token to her tiara. It sat upon her crown, the gold and green catching the light of the day and yet also blending smoothly with the blues and darkness of her pelt - it became her, just as she would endeavour to become what he saw for her - a healer, not just in practice, but in name, in belief.

He spoke of his herd then, and considered his words very slowly, very seriously. To not return to the Throat, to seek out the Falls instead? It was an idea she had had before - it was sanctioned by the God who built the land - and she nodded more to herself than him as something within her settled into place. Yes, the Falls, she would at least go there, and see, perhaps the Stornbringer still ruled there (how she hoped he was still alive, still the strong, kind, loving creature she had ridden a wild tornado with) - there was no time like the present to check (and she even smiled at that, for the thought was not chased immediately by a wave of guilt, a desire to punish herself for ever possibly thinking about something that might be good for her..).

The absorption of the tokens was not something she missed. She watched each one disappear, leaned down and breathed in the scent of the flowers that replaced them, in silent reverie. Cirrus would never forget their sacrifice - she would hold onto their faces forever, for they were faces who had carved her into the creature she now was, standing before the great Lord of Earth and Water, accepting his gifts, his lessons, his advice, with a tempered crown. All is forgiven, he said at last, and the sound washed through her in much a similar fashion as she suspected her new magic might affect a wound. It was refreshing, enlightening - tears sprung behind her eyes, though they were tears of joy and revelation. "Thank you," she murmured to his vanishing form, clinging to the feelings his presence, his gifts, had raised in her( - hoping they didn't fade with him -)

Cirrus bent low to scoop up her discarded spear, tucking it safely to the folds of her feathers, before encouraging the wind to catch her, as she leapt out, over the flowing blue lava, and headed north.