Redsand Canyon And I used to fly like Peter Pan, all the children flew when I touched their hands.

he blinked some inkling of thought away at her voice. eyes meeting hers in an easier way this time. tierra hadn't shown, maybe she was busy elsewhere. it would certainly make conversations like this a bit easier.

i, uh, he gave a small huff, signified by a small droop in his shoulders. no. i do not have any traditions now. i could offer animals in my born language, though. a small smile now. tentative and uncertain.

it is fitting we go with your traditions, though. they will be redhawks, no?

maxim did not carry much of an identity beyond his own name and title here in mereo.