[private] let's (not) try this again

[brigade]

I was a poor boy; you were a bright light
I was a sinner and you were a snake

He nearly expects her to drive him away—to push him aside and simply continue on her way.

So imagine his surprise when she smiles, a quick and fleeting thing, and then accepts his offer. His own lips curve into a semblance of a smile as he turns is gaze toward the wide and open horizon, his steely grey eyes taking it in and then nodding as he watches her take to the skies.

He is only a moment behind her. His wings shift from their usual red down to red leather, the edges turning nearly draconic and significantly larger than his usual pair. He begins to run forward, pumping his legs and wings beginning to beat until he launches himself upward. The wind is colder than it had been on the ground and, as always, it takes his breath away—leaves him breathless with a rare joy.

In these moments, Brigade remembers what it was like to be a boy. Remembers flying ahead of his twin as they explored the vast wilderness of Tephra, as he learned what it meant to have the skies for the taking. He closes his eyes as he swoops and then streamlines, cutting a path through the skies until he catches up to her, looking at her from the corner of his eye. His lips quirk for a second again and his wings shift in mid-air, going from draconic to the elliptical wings of a raven, jet-black and glossy.

These maneuver easier than the larger wings and he yips lightly as he tucks them in for a dive, spiraling down and then catching himself at the last minute—enjoying the way that the wind bends underneath him and the way that his body sings with the adrenaline and rush of doing what he was made to do.

shook like some old souls when our bones broke
swallowed the sickness, a fever, a flame

BRIGADE