graasvoel

The hulking vulture was quiet this evening. He was not actively searching for the warmth of a woman; nor for the amusing (if cryptic) words of his small, hyena friend. (Though, he was relatively certain that Imani would snarl at the thought of a winged Korofi as a ‘friend.’) No, the hedonistic man sought his pleasure in languid movements of warm breezes that stirred the thick, tawny feathers of his legs and ruffled through the true, warmly mottled feathers of his massive, heavy wings. The ever-snarled, wavy strands of black, brown, and white swayed in the luxurious summer puffs; a relief from the day’s heat to the thick-coated stallion.

The only movements were the occasional sway of his knotted tail around his cocked hocks—warning away Tallsun’s bloodthirsty insects. Despite their annoyance, the vulture still preferred the evenings to daylight. It was cooler, of course. But, perhaps more importantly, there (generally) was more fun to be had beneath the star’s undiscriminating, gentle light.

But then the hushed whisper of wings; but these were large wings; sounding slightly different than the usual cadence of pegasus beats. Starkly white skull rose, pale ears moving from their nest of thick, snarled forelock. Though his eyes remained half-mast, the vibrant irises of red and yellow lazily peering through the balmy, misted night for the source of the sound.

Though his eyes fully opened at both the sound of the squawk and the source of such a noise. Through the thick, old trunks was a vision, a pale woman wreathed in misted glow. Pastel colors of the vibrant, southern seas splashed across her coat and wings—two sets?

His now-perked ears caught her question, and his raptor gaze (reluctantly) left the slender lady to the pale sphere that nestled among gnarled roots. He didn’t spend much time on the thing, eyes eagerly (greedily) returning to her gold-adorned face. Large wings ruffled, shifting the mist, as he began to slowly approach the surprised woman.

“And a large egg it is, lovely lady,” his deep, gruff voice split the still that had settled after her incredulous question. “What do you wager is in it?” His bright, sharp gaze grew mischievous and joking, “Some say dragons come out of eggs like these.” His voice implied danger, as if some beast might emerge from the seemingly harmless, fragile oval at their hooves.