The child shivers;
She is an inelegant newborn thing that is all legs and sharp jutting angles. It will be a few years until she grows into a self that promises to be small and darting like a shadow. For now she is chilled almost to the bone because she has wandered away from her mother and cannot find her way back.
It is easy to remedy the cold and the dark.
The pale downy feathers of infant wings hug her sides until she stretches them out. As she does so, the feathers ignite into pure flame that burns. The heat begins to warm her and the dark is kept at bay by the light produced. She can only keep this up for so long until she is tired - drained of the energy necessary to shift from feathers to fire.
The firelight is gone and the dark creeps back in around her. Cold follows it and the child huffs into the night. It was more like a sigh of frustration and exhaustion mixed together as she realizes she cannot stay here - to remain is akin to death and she might very well die by cold or predator, best to move on.
So she does.
She passes by a patch of rot. Ignores the corpse though she is not scared by bones and decomposing flesh. Neither does she look for it out of morbid curiosity. The child hugs her wings right to her sides and darts through the dark until she nearly runs right into someone else.
He’s tall and dark and solid. Most definitely not her father though as she makes a loud indelicate sniffing noise near the area of his face. “Hmmmm...” is all she inelegantly and quietly manages.
@[Tunnel]