Thread:Crowsoul50/@comment-33229352-20190824035223/@comment-33229352-20190827044115

A quarryman had managed to slip past and mount a horse and was now galloping towards the village, no doubt to inform them of her presence. Leaving the quarry, she flew after them, toying with the idea of letting them go, killing them, or simply just spooking the horse and seeing what came of that. Fire licked at the edges of her primary feathers, giving them and even more shimmery appearance.