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Aithniel and Zera flew side by side, heading south after exploring the north. Gaucho had taught her (indirectly) that a good lead seemed to be everyone all at once, so she spent a considerable amount of time traveling. With a deep breath, she enjoyed the dichotomy of the chilly air and the bright sun overhead, silver eyes observing the landscape fade by like a dream beneath her wings. Zera was less impressed as he narrowed his golden eyes, a pillar of strength and emotional resolve which she was certainly not.
A gathering below caught her eye and she descended, hearing the Earth Turtle call all of them to put something meaningful on the tree. Aithniel stood at a distance for a moment, thinking, and then smiled. She would have to travel for hers, but it would be perfect.
Zera stayed behind and watched, the large griffin judging from a nearby perch as he waited for his bond mate to return. And she did, eventually. Aithniel brought with her a large piece of drift wood with a rough likeness of the Dragon's Throat fire painted on it. Having a lion's tail with a tuft came in handy. The dragon's tree blood was bright and stained the wood elegantly, and she put the item up high in the boughs where her wings could carry her above their heads.
When she landed again, Aithniel smiled boldly, hanging around to see other trinkets offered. Volterra's skull was a source of pride and amusement, and she was glad that her herd was so bold. Hopefully each of the members of the Dragon's Throat brought something valuable and gutsy to hand on the boughs.
The Sun God would be honored in any season.
If today was Magic Day, then she praised fire and light.
But burn down our home
I won't leave alive
Please tag me in everything!
