terra

[Reagan]

we’re on each other’s team…

There is a beautiful sound that splits the trees.

Terra’s ability to move through the trees upon the wing of a hawk was one that she and her mother had worked hard on in the months that it had taken Terra to learn that she had the ability to manipulate her body. She could become anything she wanted and the young woman had chosen feathers and talons over claws and paws—and it made her mother proud. It was not uncommon that mother and daughter would choose to fly together, Heda in tow, moving through their home as if they owned it—and indeed, they did. It was a beautiful thing, and Terra’s self-confidence grew through the days as she moved from her girl-hood into the form of a beautiful young woman.

And so she calls out to her father, smoothly moving from bird to equine, and with her, a swooping sound whips through the air, and a silent great grey owl flutters out of nothingness, coming to land upon Terra’s back, her feathered head wobbling goofily as she takes in her surroundings. She flaps, kicking up her feet before a grey smoke appears, and Reagan shifts from owl to mare. Her stomach was wobbling slightly, her pregnant body huffing with the exhertion it took her to get her body up into the air.

“Woo. That was a good flight, Terra. Your wings certainly are getting stronger. Me on the other hand. I need to lay off the barley.”