Ophanim

He had considered flying to Sylva until Starsin reminded him that it would mean landing through the tree branches. They both knew he wasn’t graceful enough to maneuver like that. Instead, he walks alongside his wife with a faint smile on his face and a wing draped lightly over her back. The winter snow crunches beneath their hooves as they cross over the border into the neighboring herdlands. Of course, Castile had only sent him along to protect Starsin, but he feels some small semblance of pride at being chosen. It could have just as easily been Vulgaris or Wolfbane meeting with the leaders of Sylva.
 
He doesn’t view himself as equal to the veterans of Loess but he wonders if perhaps it meant he had some future there as more than just the advisor’s courtesan. As they walk deeper into the forests, Ophanim retracts his wing and lets his scales begin to cover every inch of his body. He trades his white and gold for oil-slick black with a red sheen. He doesn’t know the people of Sylva but he is protective of his wife, so he supposes that it’s best to err on the side of caution.
 
“Do you think we can really count on them to fight against Tephra?” he asks as the feathers from his wings fall out in favor of the membrane webbing. The blue of his irises turn the color of summer sunsets when he glances her way. He likes the way the sunshine bleeds between the naked branches and onto her back. Ophanim smiles and his teeth are all fangs now, glimmering like pearls as they meet in perfect rows. The angel boy lightly touches his lips to her cheek in a brief kiss before their meeting.
 
They come to a stop near the heart of the forest herdlands and he keeps his ears trained forward, listening for anyone who might approach. Castile had warned him that they may not take kindly to intrusion even if they come from the kingdom which rules over Sylva. He shifts his weight and lets his shoulder lightly touch Starsin’s as they wait for Mary and Sinner.