The distant rumbling of clear water crashing over the falls seemed to hum beneath the earth's surface, a pleasant vibration beneath her talons. Lifting her snout to test the air, Sylvéra found it heavy with a fine mist carried downriver by the Summer breeze. Smelling nothing else of consequence, she declared the area safe, turning back to her companions and tossing her head as though to point.
Two humanoid figures emerged from the trees. Pell still had her bow half-drawn, fingers curled over the string and ready to pull it taut. Wary emerald eyes echoed the obvious tension carried in her shoulders. Beside her was Jiran. His own eyes gla
Eyes of rain cloud grey stared through the peerless panes of glass, view uninterrupted of the courtyard below. She had to admit, when humans wanted to create a place of grandeur, they could truly elicit works of art. Though it pained her to see resources so unjustly balanced – a palace of great wealth standing in a city where poor still gathered – she knew there was little she could do.
It was lucky enough she was allowed into such a place.
And if it hadn't been for that particular stroke of luck, she doubted she would have ever gained entrance to the king's abode – the home of Nicolas, of the line Estinvale.
The human le