Noctisardor Bypass The first season saw me weak as straw

While Rivenwood crumbled around her under earth-shattering shockwaves, Goldfinch danced among the ferns. She leapt and spun, snapping wildly with each hop at the bird which flitted and bobbed above her as if dancing along. Her teeth never connected; there was no true threat of it.

They were only playing as they often did. The girl had grown to prefer the company of her feathered friend over that of her siblings. Goldfinch was a strange and quiet child who communicated largely in chirps and twitters not unlike her familiar. She knew how to speak, of course, and sometimes did.

But what was the point?

She would much rather play.