Page 111 of Griffin Food
She blinks up at me. I slide the woolen cowl down over her head. She mutters something lost in the wool.
“I have discerning taste.” I am replaying Darkan’s earlier words. “And I like it. Atlas likes to feed and pet you while you kneel on a cushion at his feet. I like to dress.”
The hat goes on next. I chuckle when it half-buries her little head. I take it off again, curl her hair into a big, long twist, and tuck that under the cap. It pads it out a little, and I can tie the strap under her chin.
She looks adorable.
“Are you congenial to that, mate?” I press when she remains quiet.
She fidgets with the cowl. “Yes… What does Fenix like to do?”
A deep guffaw escapes me. “Fenix likes to do many things. I’ll let you work out his particular proclivities in your own time.”
Darkan watches us casually from within as I slide the gloves onto her hands. They’re soft and fur-lined. Meant to protect against the elements.
“Before a griffin shifter comes into existence, they first meet as a man and a griffin. But before the young candidates go through a training and assessment stage. It is not unusual for us to run patrols with a human rider long before they are put forward to meet the griffins.”
“You have more griffins? Riderless ones?”
I nod. “We do. They live deep in the core of the mountain and largely sleep. Rousing only when candidates are presented, and only if one calls to them. They are discerning, instinctual creatures. It is for the best that they are so discerning, for our bond is lifelong and shapes both of us.”
Her eyes are wide and full of wonderment.
“When Darkan next manifests, he’ll be wearing such a harness, which you will hook into for your safety.”
She looks ridiculous in her oversized hat, gloves, and riding jacket. But when she smiles, I swear it knocks something loose inside me. I tug the cowl up over the back of her helmet and over her mouth and nose. Then come the goggles. If I thought she was cute before, this is a whole other level.
“Adorable,” Darkan preens.
She gestures toward herself. The cowl swallows the shape of her words, but I hear them as if she whispers directly into my thoughts. “Go ahead. I’m ready. I’m ready for my first flight.”
Violet
As Darrion winks out of existence and explodes in feathers and sparks into Darkan, Lark nudges me gently with his head. I reach up to brush the side of his throat.
“It’ll be all right,” I say, tugging the stupid cowl down from my mouth. “Let me do this. It is what I want.”
He laps up the side of my cheek and then buries his nose against my throat and purrs.
“I won’t be gone long, I promise.”
When I turn back, Darkan spreads his wings, holding the left one low to provide a platform.
“Place your boot upon my wing,” he says, “The ridge is strong and will hold you with ease. Note the harness that goes around your waist.”
He twists his head to watch me as I place my boot against his beautiful wing.
“Sorry,” I say. “I don’t like to tread on you thus.”
“You may trust, little mate, that in battle my wings have suffered far worse than your gentle weight.”
Well, I suppose when one puts it like that… I clamber up awkwardly, with much apologizing, until I’m in the seat. Then I pull on the harness and tighten the straps. Finally, I tug the cowl back over my nose and mouth.
“I’m ready.”
“Rest assured that if by some miracle it fails and you should fall, I will catch you,” Darrion says as Darkan edges toward the opening in the cliff face.
“I knowwwwwwohhhh—”
