Neverwinter Forest Fate and Destiny were never friends

no blood here.

the forest was quiet today, as he set his wings wide for gliding; he had listened for crowcall, for shrieking of fox, or signs of terror (which inevitably meant something had entered the path to death, either as prey or as a failed combatant) and there was nothing.

a frustrated trill crawled up his throat. he took to roosting on an oak branch, and as he balanced there, a sound came from below. it wasn't the kind of sound that usually interested him - a song, of sorts.

with a heave and a drop, he was shifting with the air and spiraling down - landing again on an open patch of grass, and up popped his bald head a moment later.