There is a dizzying freedom to being a simple man. To have simplistic tasks and concrete boundaries set before him, unchanging. Another face in the crowd, a sword in the armory. Kaj had loved his herd with the entirety of his heart for many, many seasons. But times were changing, and it was his place no longer. Instead he was free to surf the skies and explore the wilds once more, free to chase the playful currents and let the earth wash over him like a familiar friend. He dug his fingers into the soil and sky and remembered what it was to be primal, to enjoy the simplistic things. There was no longer a burden on his shoulders, no stress to crinkle the corners of his eyes or lay low his wings. He was capable of spending his free days doing nothing but flying or playing with his daughter, and it was exhilarating. 

The skies are dark and heavy with promise, and his skin feels like it's crackling with anticipation and potential. Kaj recalls the storm he and Cirrus had summoned, the danger and the thrill of their power taking on its own life, the shocked laughter and the euphoric feeling of succumbing to the inherent power of nature. He doesn't know what draws him north-bound, but energy like a throbbing heartbeat hums in his veins, and he can't ignore the call. Cirrus is not beside him, and Aleta is home, sheltered beneath summer boughs. But he does not need them here with him to embrace this storm, to remember what it's like to taste his own sparks on his tongue. 

The grass rustles beneath powerful, sweeping winds. It crackles and sways, a soft hissing sound of summer drought. Errant leaves sweep by on invisible currents, disappearing into the darkened skyline. For a moment, Kaj simply stands there and breathes. The air is charged, and he recognizes it. Closes his eyes and lifts his wings at his sides, embracing the wind that shuffles his primaries and tugs at his arches, begging his acquiescence. Sparks dance in his feathers, a subconscious call and response to the weather patterns. Harmless, for now. Nothing but a tickle against the plumes of his feathers. 

But he is not alone, as he had previously assumed. 

The stillness of the night is broken by flashes of silver light, and he watches in unashamed awe as a great bird sweeps from the skies, every buffet of her wings riling the storm to her command. He may be a knight of the storm, but she is the queen. And he is in awe of her beauty, the way the wind sings against her like a joyous choir, thanking her for her mastery. She alights upon a boulder, and Kaj lowers his head a fraction, too entranced to bow but wanting to show his respect for this storm-born sister. 

Except...she knows his name.

For a moment Kaj doesn't even register what she said or the gleaming egg rolling gently between them, too surprised by the fact that she calls him by his name so familiarly. But then his pale blues snap down to the egg, and his heart surges in his chest like a wild beast. For so, so long, Kaj had believed himself too broken to receive such a gift as a companion. Surely that was why his loyalty and faith had never drawn one to him. Surely he had made a mistake somewhere, and he was cursed to mourn his loneliness every time he gazed upon a bonded pair. And yet here this beautiful creature was, presenting this egg to him by name, electricity and freedom in the orbs of her eyes. 

He's dumbfounded, heart pounding so hard he believes she could hear it even over the whistle of the storm. Is he worthy of this kind of gift? Does he truly desire to tie another creature to his tired soul? And yet he reaches deep beneath the depths of his self-loathing and tries to imagine a bonded life. A soul that knows him inside and out, a love that can't be broken. And Kaj, with all his bad luck in love, had wanted nothing more his entire life. Love. And already he loves the creature beneath that pale shell, and there is no other answer to the bird's question. He steps forward and lowers his muzzle to gently skirt across the shuddering surface of the egg, exhales shakily and lifts his eyes to the creature. His face is raw and shattered open, a gratitude and respect so deep he feels as if he's grounded to the earth forever. 

"Yes," he rumbles, one wing sweeping low to cradle the egg with his pale feathers, protective and loving. "We will ride your storms together until our end of days," he vows, mane whipping against his neck beneath the power of this generous queen's nature. "Thank you." Because there is nothing else for him to say, not when she has given him the only other thing he wanted in life. Not when she has taken his spotted soul and made it whole.