Wings

I went out for a bite and a pint with some friends the other night. We had all needed a break from reality and shared a few laughs about the turns our lives have taken lately. It was nice to introduce friends I've known for many years to someone I've known for a shorter period of time.

We all share an interest in birds of prey. Many years ago, the one friend and I belonged to a raptor rehab center. I have tons of books on how to properly care for and subsequently release injured birds of prey. Unfortunately the group disbanded over politics before I was able to actually nurse a raptor back to health but not before I was able to learn plenty on the subject. I didn't get my rehab license at the time but am looking back into that certification.

The more recently acquired friend is interested in falconry. We shared our experiences with her. Training with lures. Feeding. Teaching an injured eagle how to fly. I used to be friends with a man who trained birds of prey and helped him on occasion. It was exhilarating.

There's something about watching those creatures hunt that is both graceful and noble. Yet it's also violent. I'll spare you the details but it's not a clean kill. It's brutal and messy. But it is often swift.

That made me think about Nea's relationship with her wings. She cherishes them because they are a symbol of her demon status. They carry her with speed and efficiency towards destruction. They also lift her high above the trees. Demons are violent nasty creatures; the antithesis of everything her wings grant her. Freedom, beauty and speed.

Like a falcon spiraling out of the sky, Nea dives on Alex and twists her talons in his soul. Swift. Brutal. Elegant.