Starling

Starling is as she is bred to be, and freedom is her middle name.

She rarely stays grounded, except to sleep, preferring to take to the winds as soon as she draws conscious breath. It’s as if a primal fear beats steadily in her heart that an earthen web will ensnare her should she dwell too long on the ground.

Which is ironic considering her birth-nest was located deep in an ancient jungle.

She does not remember much of her past, only flashes of confusing scents and sounds. The cry of a colourful parrot. The smell of fruit that fell to the ground in its hundreds. The potent odor of blooming flowers. The scream of a starving predator.

Although rumor and speculation run rampant among the clan, Starling does not question why she feels the way she does. When she closes her eyes, she does not dream, and when she sees the pale lavender of dawn, she takes flight.

Her instincts tell her that her childhood was not a happy one, and perhaps the black hole of her memories is a gift that is not to be questioned.
Being lead by instinct, Starling followed the wind to the last place she ever expected to be drawn to: The Behemoth. Since she was able to leave this place she had no desire to ever return, yet here she was. She silently glided across countless tree tops, her nerves on edge as her heart pounded. She couldn't take being this low to the ground and darted straight up, meeting the very top of the canopy above the Behemoth in moments.

She slowed her pace, fighting to catch her breath when she caught a glance of a very large Obelisk surrounded by notes, drawings, satchels and bags. He was laying on his side, unmoving from what she could tell and she swooped in quickly to nudge him. It wasn't until he awoke did she realize that this was his nest and he was only resting. She apologized for waking him and promised to make it up to him. He reassured her that it wasn't a problem as he usually stayed up with the moon.

Before he could finish assuring her, she took off to search for food as an apology. She returned as the sun went down, holding a small satchel of food for the both of them. She had become very drowsy at this point from the stress of the day and asked to camp. Oswald, the Obelisk, seen nothing wrong with her camping close by and welcomed her. He humored her with stories, his few political stories and even helped her notice how clean the air smelt on top of the behemoth.

Oddly, being near to him brought her peace; A peace she hadn't felt in years. She finally sighed, knowing that she wouldn't dream but she at least found some calm. Perhaps she'll stay here for a while and learn what this Obelisk has to share, but nothing will stop her from flying come dawn.