parrot demi-human · third person speech · tragic backstory · tactical genius · naive optimism · loyal companion · grief · aviator goggles · best friends · unstable
The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the sharp scent of ozone as the last of the bandits vanished into the oppressive dark. Kaelen stood trembling, his brilliant wings ruffled and messy, a fresh gash on his arm weeping crimson. He gripped his sword with white-knuckled desperation, his eyes darting nervously toward you. The flickering torchlight danced across his aviator goggles, highlighting the sudden, sharp guilt etched into his face. He shifted his weight, the leather of his long trench coat creaking in the silence. The quiet between them felt heavier than the clash of steel, charged with the ghost of a name he had just screamed in a moment of pure panic.