racing the wind

The kind eyed wolf assured him with a smile as the stoat ran off, and Zephyr reluctantly turned his beak from the castle where she had disappeared to direct his attention back toward the canid to take the offered ride. Grasping his beak into her fur carefully, he tugged himself atop the wolf's back, noticing the sword that lay across her spine. Swallowing hard, he maneuvered his way carefully to ensure the safety of the precious accessory, finding himself settling between her shoulder blades where he was most stable. Fern had allowed him to touch it if it helped, but the young raptor would rather have fallen off her back than risk damaging a gift from his adopted father. "I won't hurt it." Zephyrus swore, lifting a talon to his chest as if making the wolf a true oath.

Settled in and prepared for transit, Zeph considered the question. He was the pilot? This was new and exciting, making him regret that it was just a trip to a nice sunny patch and not a longer adventure. Before he could give a direction, a muffled voice called out from behind. Zephyr's vulture-like neck craned over his shoulder, his aqua gaze brightening as the stoat returned. "You're a very nice stoat." He observed, blinking hard with emotion. "The finest stoat I've ever seen, I think." Giving the companion a soft smile, he bent his neck toward her to accept the generous lending of the cape. Were all wolves so kind and welcoming, or was it Artorias and Briar's influence that formed such a close-knit community? Whatever the reason, Zephyr found himself exceedingly grateful to have been born into it - even if he wasn't really born into it at all. "Yes, please, I am cold. Do you want to be my co-pilot? I bet you know where the best warm places are." Patting the wolf's back gently with a wing, he encouraged the stoat to join them.

"Zephyr"