@Eythan @Avi
set around the eighteenth, in the early days of winter in polaris!

it was getting a little harder to breathe, now. damask sensed it — that exact threshold where the air shifted and cooled, degree by degree. no change since yesterday, then. she inhaled and looked down at the river, floating closer, floating by. her silhouette passed over the surface: broad wings and twin fronds of tailfeathers to match, all outspread in soaring flight. she wasn't alone; eythan's shadow followed shortly, near-identical except in scale. and to think she hadn't read into the resemblance, up until her grandmother gave it away. she hurried to pick her eyes back up. the landscape began to lose its color as drifts of white striated the stone, growing ever-thicker in the distance. only a few minutes to go. what's that feeling? an itch in your skin, a twitch in your nerves, like something isn't right? not to worry; that's just you.

this hadn't been her idea, but ... she couldn't deny her involvement in bringing it about. let's see. who discovered this storm in the first place? (it'd been the day before, a supply run gathering supplementary, ah — presents? enrichment for the bonebound's newest additions. during said run, she'd noticed an irregularity, and of course she had to investigate ...) you did. now, who went and reported it? (well, her father needed to know, right? patrols were another part of her allotted busywork? assignments, and at that point, it essentially was a patrol. this definitely had something to do with ursa, which made it relevant ...) yep, it was you. and who did not account for every possible reaction this news might elicit? (in her defense, though ...) you.

okay, but who could've predicted that auré would hear the word snow and suggest a damn field trip?

avi's voice mingled with eythan's in a charming, chattering interplay behind her, punctuated with the occasional giggle or chuckle. the accipiter didn't turn to look at them, but she knew her ... uncle had her ... cousin bundled up on his back, still too young to fly. so sticky-sugary sweet. man, don't you wish that were you? damask's ears pressed into her nape. she hadn't said a word since they'd left — a tour guide, nothing more. lighten up, will you? oh, but her heart was so, so heavy.

snowflakes dotted her wings as she angled into the white. damask wheeled around, banking to the left. any further and the cold would start to bite. a scan, a quick spell — yes, they were safe. two great flares of magic hovered to the north, blurry, colossal; but she'd seen them before, and those were far, deep in the blizzard. otherwise, no sign of trouble. "here," she called at last, circling. the word rang out with a cheerful lilt, nice and slight, not out of character — very fake, but very convincing. "what do you think?" as in: pretty cool, right? and absolutely not as in: are we done here?

All things considered, snow wasn't all that common an occurrence in the caves aside from where the Master Tenzin (once) resided in Pisces, and the high reaches of connecting tunnels; when it manifested in any other cave, it came with trouble. Don't tell Eythan that one incident (the snow-laden Trial in Hydra) set the curve for a pattern. He was already convinced by the cold settling into his feathers as ice buffeted his face, and something deeper-in.

Avi was nestled into the space between his wings, velvety scythes interlocked as far around his ruff as they could reach. Her babbling'd grown more coherent in the passing days, but her enthusiasm for life was still unmatched. Eythan encouraged every bit of it, responding to whatever she might have to say with warm smiles and a few hesitant smirks. The gryphon graciously hoped she didn't notice his holding back, the mildly guilty slant in his rhythms and distracted glances towards Damask when he thought she wasn't looking. There hadn't been a single word from her since the outset.

Wings flicked up, twisting to slow himself down before trailing the monochromatic hybrid closer to the blizzard. "Hold on, Ah - s'bout to get colder," he chirped, flaring his feathers out so the spotted bundle of joy could snuggle in deeper, if she wanted.

Bright eyes stared at the circling silhouette that was Damask, so similar to his own shadow cast on the snow (and shit, he needed to say something. Anything'd seem like an ambush. Eythan wasn't sure how much longer he could take thinking about what to say, when he knew his best working conditions were on complete improvisation and word-vomit) and he beat his wings against the wind again - again and again, until he balanced out into a swooping glide just beneath his daughter.

"I've never seen snow actually falling," he tried in a pathetic attempt to reciprocate the pleasant mood ('n I'm sure not fooling either 'o us with this shit, the leader hasn't said a single thing 'til now.) The gryphon twisted over his shoulder as best he could without overbalancing and spiralling, smiling with a squint of his eyes, "how 'bout you?" Surely, the bones-loving little fiend he was carrying would have some wonderful bit of child-wisdom to dispense.

After that, Eythan glanced back towards Damask, chirping carefully, "are we good to land in it?" (And when's a good time?)

@Avi

Avi was getting to that stage of growth where she was undeniably adorable. The little fuzz on her had fluffed out into thick down and turned her sillouhette akin to an egg. Her wings were short an round, her scythes were squishy, and those oily horns sat comically large atop her crown. All in all: a baby.

And today the little baby was going on quite the adventure! Babyish babbling sounded off as Avi curled up around Eythan's shoulders. They were flying through the air somewhere, little streaks of snow drifting across the cavern and onto her fur. She shivered. Snow wasn't exactly something she'd experienced before. Still, it was interesting, and the alien found herself straining to see where it all came from. Was it like rain, or dust?

"Sssssnow! Snow-snow!" Aviva babbled in response to her father. She was completely oblivious to the tension between the older avians-- this was just a fun, cool family trip! Dad and Dam-isk were so cool for bringing her here! Nothing more.

The atmosphere changed with their slow, gradual descent, becoming cold and thick with snowflakes. Avi snuggled deep into her father's fur as the blizzard drew near. "Co-old," she sung, and tried to produce a low hum around her-- not for any particular reason, but simply because that's what Avi does. The magic sounded out faint and low: a discordant, magical grunt.

@Damask and @Eythan this is so late and rushed I'm sorry

@Avi @Eythan

turn around, and there they were: eythan with his big, strong wings, beating back the storm; avi bundled up on his back, half-buried in the ruff at his nape, scythes wrapped around his shoulders in a tight bear hug. the snow on their backs glittered like sugar, powder and crystal alike.

oh, don't these two just make you want to melt? make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside? where's your holiday spirit, now? nowhere? you jealous, heartless, miserable child.

not that damask was going to let it show. eythan picked up the pace, flew just slightly too close, and she almost shied away — didn't. instead, she pressed a smile onto her face, measured into understated seamlessness. it didn't reach her eyes all the way, but at this distance, did it really matter? even then, she was practically carrying their song and dance; eythan could only muster up a lame little comment, inflected with a distinct falling-flatness she could've bested in her sleep. amateur. and what did his bad acting say, exactly? maybe that he can't relax, not with you here. maybe that he wants to spend some quality time with his own kid and you're making it weird. maybe that you've served your purpose and you need to get gone. or — "... co-old ..." that this was a terrible idea to begin with; and yeah, yeah, it wasn't yours, but hey, you know ... you don't actually have to go along with everything your daddy says.

it wasn't exactly freezing here. she'd chosen a spot at the blizzard's very fringes, just deep enough to hit the right kind of snow: fluffy and packable, the good stuff, ideal for avi to explore and enjoy. still, though, sensitivities differed, and that low hum ... yes, it was something this kid just sort of did, damask was aware, but ... here, it could've been a sign of agitation. discomfort. distress. or an attempt to stir up the air, strike heat out of sonic friction. she drew a breath in and reached for her stone, if only to offset the gusts, make avi a little more comfortable — but the response was even less enthusiastic than the last, which was to say ... nonexistent. okay, so evidently, she didn't have the energy for magic today. fine. fantastic.

from eythan: "are we good to land in it?" sounds like he's scared he's gonna break something. you, perhaps?

"everything checks out," damask replied. mm. easy-breezy, same as before. satisfactory. her gaze shifted from eythan to ... "avi?" it came out soft, (which was dangerously adjacent to sad,) (not satisfactory,) altogether without her permission. she corrected it, clearing her throat. "would you like to do the honors? just say when, point anywhere, and we'll land. make sure your dad can see, all right?"

your, as in their — (wait, wait, no, remember, that's not what eythan's been using ...) her — (aaghh ...) avi's ... dad. not anybody else's.

Down below: fluffy, white snow piling up into gentle hills. Up above: wispy clouds drifting between stalagmites and scattering snowflakes downwards. Just beneath her: her father in flight, flying smoothly despite the tiny scythes curled around his shoulders. And just to her side was Dam-isk, the coolest not-Dad Avi'd ever met! It really made this the best trip she'd ever had in her (admittedly short) life! Nevermind the chill, or the uncomfortable glances between the older gembound. This was just a fun, fun adventure!

Damask spoke out, called Avi by name. The honors of choosing a location, hm? She can do that! The little hybrid fluffed out her fur and stretched out her neck to look down at the ground below. There were a lot of white things, and glowy things, and tasty rock things down there, but she could still make out a couple points of interest. The landmark that caught her eye the most was this strange, moving thing submerged partially in an icy river. There weren't many streams in Canis, so seeing something so vast really blew her mind. Funny ropes stretched from it's base up into the ceiling-- how weird was that? Oh, but the real prize winner were the massive snowbanks on either side, piled up against the shores. That was awesome.

Avi wasted little time. "There! There!" Her little knife-arm poked out and pointed towards the Generator, straining to go far enough for Eythan to see. "Moving-wheel-water thing! There!"

@Eythan

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

strong language

Bold of the narrative to assume that Avi had ever been anything but adorable. She was merely a different shape of it, now. One that was vibrating in response to the cold. Completely warranted, if you ask him. Eythan murmured to her, "uh-huh, pretty dang cold." His ruff was puffed as much as it could be, but there was only so much he could provide on his own. This excursion would have to be a pretty short one, maybe—which meant he should get to growing the pair to pose his question.

... once he got past the vat of acid either of them were performing a trapeze act over. The moment any word came out of his mouth, he knew that he was caught in the act. He was hardly putting any heart into his act like Damask was, but there was no Goddamned way she was just making sure it was a silent flight all the way here. The gryphon'd already figured that much out. Now it was just why; he wagered that it was plain not wanting to come along. This thing'd been on Aure's suggestion, as a sort of family field trip with father dearest as the barrier between Avi and Damask. There hadn't been any visible begrudging but, as one can see... there was barely any tour guide enthusiasm radiating from the raptor.

Fuck, I shouldn't even ask, he decided then and there, shit's gonna scare her off and Avi'll notice. In private, then. Mano a mano, as the phrase goes. They should just keep playing at this shitty little charade. Paste on the ham.

"Everything checks out," and he nodded slightly once he knew that Damask was looking. Ears flapping in the wind, he hauled them forward. She put the onus on the kid to pick a landing site and he couldn't bring himself to be too upset. Gives either of them something else to focus on, yeah? Even if that bit of word choice ("your dad") was like an arrowhead wedged right between his ribs, shot point-blank. Unintentionally hurtful or not, it stung. Eythan gritted his beak and twisted away to follow the point of a very baby scythe to the earth.

"Oh, we c'do that, eh?" What a fake little suggestive glance Damask's way. The hybrid's too used to wearing his heart on his sleeve. "I raced another gryphon here one time. Jus' followed the river t'the wall over there..." Eythan started his descent, careful as always not to jostle his passenger. A tip of the wing and drop of the weight, and he was pinwheeling down slowly. It was just tight enough of a turn to make himself and Avi dizzy. The payoff of landing with a few stumbling paces wasn't entirely worth it. "I think... he mighta told me what this wheel's called. A generator 'er sum'n?"

Brief ramble about his limited history with this landmark done, he strode over to what seemed to be a thinner patch of snow. Eythan chirped softly as he spread out his wing for the egg-shaped youth to disembark across, "have at it, kiddo." However unfair it was to Avi, he was... kind of hoping for a spectacle to keep himself from wandering back to Damask. Not the fuckin' time and place.

@Damask

@Avi @Eythan

out came a long, velvety scythe, and damask craned her neck in midair to follow its line of sight for avi's decision on their destination: "moving-wheel-water thing!" well! how does our adult supervision feel about that? the accipiter's eyes flicked over to eythan — and she could've sworn she saw friction in the set of his beak. not good, not good. cute of you to try and help his kid feel all special ... but consider this: might it be possible that he can do that all by himself, without this little usurper over here (that's you) stepping in to undermine him? oh, and look at that. more bad acting. she returned his look with a small nod, then addressed avi: "excellent choice." and that was just about all she could manage before eythan launched into storytime.

while he opted for a gentle descent, damask swerved on her wingtip and cut ahead in quick, sharp turns, shooting for a dune of white along the shoreline — perfect vantage for the great apparatus on the opposite side. touchdown!, guaranteed in a minute or less. with a series of buffeting wingbeats to soften the drop, she set herself down on the crest of the snowdrift. at her weight, (which is to say ... hm, not much,) she could almost float on it; her feet sank an inch or two below the surface and arrived at a halt, toes tensing and curling in the cold. pale swirls of air puffed out as she panted lightly into the breeze. having some trouble, are we? a subtle shake of her head, feathers ruffling and smoothing — turns out the cold's kinda rough on those broken lungs of yours, huh. but we knew that already. the question is how rough.

she coughed a little cough under her breath, ears swiveling as wingbeats fell into stumbling footsteps behind her. eythan was still talking about this other gryphon of his, half-remembered factoids, an uncertain title. "yes, the generator," damask confirmed without missing a beat. she glanced over her shoulder; eythan had selected a thin patch in the snow, with a wing outstretched as a bridge for avi. oh, the sweetness just doesn't stop. a moment for the two of them to get their bearings, and then she waved her muzzle gently at the space beside her, tailfeathers brushing a shallow arc into the snow. an invitation — by no means an instruction. "that's what keeps the lights on," she said to avi, indicating the magnificent that across the river. her voice moved a measure more slowly than usual, but that was to subtly keep her breathing in check, not to go easy on the kid's developing grasp of language — and she certainly wasn't doing that in any other respect. "the water moves the wheel, as you astutely noted, and the motion turns into electric energy, which the wires distribute into the orbs. without it, there would be darkness everywhere — here, canis, every cave and every tunnel, they all depend on that single machine."

the bird of prey conjured up another artful smile for avi, then went to regard — (oh, come on) (why is this such a big deal to you?) (fine, go, think whatever you want; not like anybody's listening, right? right? heh) to regard their father. "anything else i can do for you two, eythan?"