there was something quite addictive about being table to take flight into the skies.
it was a lesson learned in childhood after gwydion had spent hours upon hours in the form of a sparrow after successfully shifting into a wild shape ─ perched high in one of the trees, it had taken four of the camp's best hunters to catch them with a net and even after they had shifted back into their druid form, it had taken them months to properly return to the earth and not hunger for the feeling of wind beneath their wings. it had been years since that lesson and gwydion had long since mastered control over their own mind whilst in wild shape but there was still an uneasiness whenever the occasion called for a winged form, a call from within that yearned for freedom, which was why they had taken to the roof, alternating between forms until the shadow of another from the fellowship darkened the sanctuary that they had claimed for themselves.
gwydion hopped impatiently from one loose shingle to the other, waiting to be noticed, yet they still startled at his words, squawking indignantly at the accusation. ( it was funny, what remained even after they had shifted back. as they balanced precariously on the edge of the roof, nimble feet crossing the distance between them, the talons on their toes clicked on the stone ─ tap, tap, tap. a curious glance was given to their feet. where were their shoes again ? )
up close, he stunk of rot. it curled, uncomfortably, in the gut, finding a home alongside the other unpleasant feelings that being in vinnesse, surrounded by mortals and mages and gauntlets inspired, but as far as smells went, sion was not the worst. there was something familiar with the decay, an earthiness that reminded gwydion of being back home, digging up deer bones for a sacrifice, though there was a bitter note to the smell, a biting cold that made them want to sneeze whenever he was near.
( bravely, they resisted the urge, nose twitching and scrunching up as they nestled into position on the roof's edge, close enough that the blustering wind could not take away the volume of their words. )
❝ ... you are hard to miss. i mean nothing malicious by it ... merely wanted to see if the roof's edge would give in from underneath you before i joined. are you not used to the stares, by now ? ❞ sion drew the eye wherever he went ─ there existed no man less inconspicuous than the one seated beside them. unashamed, their whole body turned to study him, feet tucked against their chin. a dangerous position to be in when deciding to poke at the great barbarian, but sion had proved to be reasonable, thus far, and gwydion considered this training for when they would have to speak to far less tolerable members of the fellowship. ❝ did you hear it too ? ❞ they had been afraid to speak of it, the gauntlet, and what it whispered, what it threatened, what it promised, but under the curtain of night, the twinkling stars reflected in his black gaze, gwydion felt comfortable enough to unfurl their feathers.
