Violent Mood Swings

[Cassidy Clark]

Avalon had watched Dr. Clay walk up the stair and past into the room, bobbing a rather awkward half bow to her nervously as he did so. Jessica, the crow who had gone to look for the avian doctor, followed him up the stairs and bowed more formally. "As promised, milady Shardae."

Avalon nodded acknowledgement and then climbed the stairs - her steps slow and measured at the beginning, much less so by the time she reached the top of the flight. She forced herself to be still, sedate, calm, for a while longer as she addressed some of the duller things that her mother was having her do, but finally she decided that she just didn't want to anymore.

So she would be Tuuli Thea one day; one day soon? Good, she wasn't right now. No, not yet. She therefore let herself dissolve with a hawk shriek of rage/joy into her second form and then take to the air, soaring up and up and up. She didn't need to look behind her or to listen to know that a small flock of mixed birds - mainly crows and ravens, but with a few sparrows - had flown out of the building after her and were trailing her at a small distance now. Not as high, of course - it was difficult for the other birds (especially sparrows) to gain altitude like she did, but they were still resolutely following like a tattered banner of mostly blue-black.

She kept the building in sight, however, and the door into or at least the first part of her room. Therefore, though she wasn't exactly in the room when Caleb came to call, she wasn't more then a few seconds away and it didn't exactly take her that long to fold her wings and dive down like a missile, snapping her wings back open and changing back a few seconds before landing. The flock of avians landed shortly after; some changing back and some electing to remain a while longer in their feathered forms.

"Yes?"

"The doctor has finished, Milady," the young avian said respectfully. His voice, tone, and movement held nothing but the carefully poised reserve that the old families, at least, still practiced, and Avalon automatically tied her own mask of reserve more firmly in place in reaction to that. She'd had her small time of flying, which certainly helped to work away some of the restlessness - of not being able to help, of knowing she wouldn't have been able to help even had she been there, of not being able to stay with Brennan... not so much because she wanted to see him in pain as that she hadn't wanted to leave him to it.

But no, she was an avian lady. More then that, she was the Heir.

"Thank you," she said graciously, and then hesitated for a moment before deciding and slipping back down the stairs. Back to the room with the bloody broken glass, back to her Alistair who was white with strain and swathed in bandages. Her expression softened a little, but she said nothing for a moment. She couldn't think of anything that she really wanted to say that, honestly, wouldn't be considered indecent. So she said nothing.