Built to Burn

Artorias came up along behind him as the chick moved to conquer the stairwell, offering instead his own back for the small raptor to ride upon. As the beast lowered himself, Zephyr came forward and closed his beak upon the thick dark fur. With one talon scraping across the wolf's side seeking purchase, he hauled with his beak and eventually found himself at new heights. Zephyrus did his best to stand, holding upon the wolf with both talon and beak and riding him along toward the stairs. "It's like flying!" His words were mumbled from the scruff-fur in his mouth, but his wings were extended and catching the air as Artorias began to move out from the room and down.

His savior's speech broke thorough the bird's enjoyment-driven-selective-deafness and his wings drooped. "Hm?" He mused into the fur. "Dunno. Like 'em both." What others called him was very low on Zephyr's list of priorities, which now included flying on the backs of wolves on top of the number-one priority, food. Artorias explained the castle as he walked, and while the chick glanced about in curiosity, he found it all looked very much the same and very boring. The fire on the wall of the room was interesting, but he could investigate that later when his hunger had been satiated.

Deposited upon a flat surface, Zeph scrabbled into a seated position to wait. His beak swirled about, surveying the sweetly smelling room and all of it's clutter. He could not name a single item upon the countertops and shelves, but it only further cemented in his mind how lucky he'd been to be found by such world-travelled and intelligent beasts. Artorias returned with the promised meal, and Zephyr began to beak the chunks, throw back his head, and swallow them whole.

"A wolf." He mimicked, having finished the meat and begun his dusting. "What's winter?" The chick's head tilted, his train of thought falling upon the easiest to verbalize question. "And without fur, how will I do winter?"

Suddenly the man tipped his head back, his soft voice becoming something more intense and powerful, with a deep reverberation Zephyr felt in his small breast. Sharp aqua eyes grew wide in shock and awe, locking with the soft fire of the wolf's as his head tipped back down from his song. He stood there dumbfounded - rocking slightly upon unbalanced talons as he was cleaned - until the other arrived, her voice a welcome softness behind the wolf's song. Zephyr's fluffy head turned sharply toward the horned female, then back at Artorias, then back to the horns. Horns? "Wolf?" He chirped in confusion.

"Zephyr"