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Dot like fields grew in size, the acreage threatening to swallow everything they saw. New spring grass grew in all directions; it looked sweetly tempting, so sweet that his stomach growled reflexively which forced a hard swallow to tame pangs of hunger. Fina apparently heard the slight rumble and found no humor in physical need; sensitive ears flicked back across skull when she opened her wings and beat them across his cranium before taking to the sky. His bonded didn’t fancy nibbling on weeds; in fact she took to bringing him bits and pieces of kills in a vain attempt at converting his natural tastes. Each time he had to politely decline with a shake of head and a soft nicker, Fina would puff up and chirp at him in blunt annoyance for not even trying her food. It was funny to watch the little hatching gain ground in life, learning that all creatures were of a different variety. Smiling with pride and admiration he watched her. Flight was awkward at best; she took on the appearance of an orange with wings and a neck. This infant stage wouldn’t last for long though, already her primary feathers hinted on colors of the dawn, royal purple and red; sometimes the tips would alight with small flames—hinting upon elemental abilities. Such a wondrous creature she was. "Midas!" Gaze fell from their elevated position to see a familiar lady resting below. Her ivory patched body a welcoming sight that was greeted with a responding whinny. Riding lower, Midas curved at a backbeat and thrust wings slower now. Limps pedaled in instinctual preparation, reading the lean muscles for impact. Rising up until he very nearly reared midair, the General touched down hindfeet first; and quickly closed his wings allowing body to slice forward in a practiced stop. A little out of breath he called to her while walking to close the distance, “Well met Tor, it lifts heart to see you are well.” Fina noticed the larger creature that her bonded had responded to by calling out and landing. The bird took a clumsy attempt and very nearly fell over to land upon Midas’s back. Beady blue eyes shot daggers at the strange lady. |
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