Redhawk Caldera sylvia

-saves you-

He should not fly. But it was the only way he could move. And so... he flew. He winged his way over many lands and forests and plains and rivers and lakes and a multitude of other this and thats until he finally encountered a mountain. Here, the air was ripply and rumbly. The turbulence shook his flight path and altered it until he was lost. He spiraled, totally out of control as he crash-landed...

Onto something soft.

His immediate reaction was to cling. He was good at clinging. He just hooked his tiny thumbs and feet into the plush fur of the male wolf's rump and held on for dear life. Or wait... was it life? He could have been dead. Was heaven soft and plush like this? He didn't know. And so, he rubbed his head into the fur and decided it was time to stop flying and start napping.