so i listen to the    wind for an answer

She’d been in the gardens today, taking stock of everything that was growing and trying to figure out what else they could use and what hadn’t survived the heat of Tallsun. Thankfully, the weather had finally turned cooler, though the Edge was buffeted with rather intense winds. She finds she doesn’t mind this so much, even though they wings rip various feathers loose and she cannot, as she once could have, slow or redirect the galls. She has been avoiding flying from the cliff though, with the wind so unpredictable. She was a good flyer, certainly, but that didn’t mean she was immune to getting slammed into the cliff face by an unexpected wind.

She’s about to grab a few jars and heads out to pick some more herbs for the garden when she hears a wail on the wind. Immediately her head shoots up, ears flicking forward to figure out where the sound is coming from. It sounds like the cry of a child, though she cannot be certain from so far away. But she knows it’s a sound that means pain – be it physical or emotional pain she also cannot say, but that detail doesn’t matter. She follows the sound, picking up a canter and keeping her wings tucked tightly to the side to prevent the winds from snagging at them.

She finds a familiar, small heap of brown and white soon enough. As she gets closer, his leg is obviously injured. Gawen is on his side, leg held out in front of him in the way a horse only does when injured. She doesn’t slow to a stop until she’s nearly on top of the boy, spreading her wings briefly to come to a quick halt, and then tucking her wings away. “Hi Gawen, I’m Lyanna,” she says quietly, figuring the boy likely doesn’t remember her. They only met when he was a newborn, after all. How quickly they grow. “I’m here to help. Just stay still, this might look weird, but it won’t hurt.”

She tugs at the now familiar magic that sits inside her, calling on the wind and dark mist. The grass stirs, the wind that brings the mist with it really just a gentle breeze. The mist is almost like shadows, something alive, and it rolls over the boy, concentrating on his leg. Slowly, the skin begins to regrow, stitching itself back together and hiding the blood beneath. They’ll have to wash away whatever blood has dried on his skin, but when the mist finally disappears, his leg looks almost as good as new. The skin on his leg is obviously new, and she suspect it’s probably tender still, but as a whole, it’s certainly an improvement. “How do you feel?”

lyanna