He thinks summer mornings are his favorite, when the sun has only just begun to rise over the horizon. The grass is still damp with dew and the stars seem lost across the lightening sky. Here, beneath the forest trees, the light bleeds golden between the leaves and onto his back. The shimmering patches of ink black and brilliant stars are almost blinding with their glory while the gold splashes accentuate his growing muscles. He’s not quite a boy any longer but he is still not the man he will some day be. Still, his chest is broader than last summer and his shoulders seem like they could cradle the world so easily.

His wings spread open to soak up that blossoming warmth before it turns to dry summer heat. His eyes – a ring of blue in a pool of black – close comfortably as he breathes in the musk of the dead leaves and the humidity rising from the dirt. Malone exhales slowly as a smile lounges across his face. Here, in the forest, all of the bad in his life feels so far away, like watching a city carry on from atop some isolated tower. From up here, his parents are happy and together. His brothers and sisters are not causes for concern. From up here, his world is solid and stable, a force so strong that the gods must turn their eyes from it.

His smile twitches for a fleeting second.

Malone opens his eyes as the morning light begins to lose its luster, turning to simple plain hues that he is more accustomed to. The birds have all begun to chatter above him while he begins to move forward now, wings folded against his sides once more. His long legs step fluidly over the underbrush as he begins to wander the between the trees idly. If he were to leave now, would he go to Loess or to Sylva? The question makes him chew his lip nervously as he tries to brush it back into the rafters of his mind. Somewhere he cannot see it or bother with it.

The boy ducks beneath a low hanging branch and continues aimlessly, only half aware of what’s ahead of him.