because the very thing you're afraid of, it keeps you clean but unclear
it's the dirt that you're made of and that’s nothing to fear
His sister is delicate and fragile and even though he is young, he recognizes it. He recognizes that she is something to be cherished and protected and although his hands will always be a little too rough, a little too quick to violence, they soften for her. He softens for her. She finally rises to her feet, teasing him as she touches his wine-dark cheek, and he just leans into it, huffing softly into the barely-dawn sky.
“Sleep is boring,” he says under his breath, still careful to not wake his parents as they curl together, his mother’s antlered head resting low. He can feel his own antlers beginning to come in, the soft nubs of them having sprouted from his head. Now, they are just tiny, furred things, but soon they will be marvelous, he thinks. One day, they will rival his mother’s own—sharp and wide and lethal.
But not today.
Today, he still clings to youth, however unwilling he is to do it.
She thinks longer than he does, weighing the options in her mind, and a restlessness spills into his blood, making his legs dance, his body hungering for something other than more of the same. But she eventually agrees, eventually bends to it—reaching out to nip at him before taking off, graceful and lithe. He grins, his smile wide and mischievous and lit with his hunger for everything that rolls out before them.
He kicks out and then bounds forward, feeling the presence of the wolves out of the corner of his eyes, their shadows sleek and silent as they follow. When he catches up to Wonder, he reaches out to bump her with his shoulder, careful to not hit too hard because he knows that she’s hurt lately. He knows that there is something beneath the surface of her skin that makes him frown with concern when she doesn’t look.
Today though, today he doesn’t fret. Instead, his wings shift, the motion graceful as they turn from their typical red feathers to something larger, the wings expanding. He pushes off the ground and the wings hold him aloft for a moment before he dips back down, stumbling for a second. They are far enough away from their parents now, that he is louder and his laughter ripples around them as he tries again. He pushes off and his flight stutters and then stabilizes. His wings flapping to maintain control as he zooms forward, hooves barely skimming the surface of the ground as he feels the rush of wind rise up to meet him.
