Redhawk Caldera swanlight

This is not a new story. This is one that has been told many times before, and will be told many times again.

And it starts right here.

Once upon a time, a girl is born to young parents. She is not remarkable by any means, not yet at the very least, pudgy and round with baby fat. Just outside the comfortable home she is born into, a red bird alights for just a moment on a branch, singing a few chirping songs, and then it is gone. 

The girl is dubbed Cardinal, and her very first action in this life is to tap her mother on the nose with the flail of a single, small paw. She is gossamer and smoke, delicate in every way. And, as soon as she was pulled to the curve of a belly, she would drop into sleep, dreaming of a lavender wood, somewhere far away.