feather fortune

Zephyr was all too happy to assist the puppies in a bit of away-from-home time, especially when they had recently lost so much. While Briar was his mother now, Zephyr had lost not one but two previously. His birth parent who had laid his egg and vanished, and the mother owl who had hatched him. It was something the bird could deeply empathize with, and he would do his best to ensure that his little aunts and uncles could find it in their hearts to heal.

He pulled from his wing a variety of feathers, near ready to molt, making sure to choose a bunch of different lengths, colors, and even a few patches of down. Holding them out to Vanta he fanned them with his talon and beckoned her to choose. "Pick six." He declared. Feathers - or so he was told from the birds in his life, and the birds who were no longer in his life - were more than they seemed, and a keen eye could find specifics in each that could tell the tale of a wolf's future.

"Zephyr"