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Frita had failed to dodge the arm of a woman as it waved back and forth, and her ring had torn one of her wings wide open. Frita screamed in pain as she plummeted towards the ground, while Arion dive bombed after her. He managed to catch her in his arms before she hit the dirt, but her vision was going black with the pain, and she barely registered that he had flown her out from underfoot, to a safe spot behind a stall where no one was walking. She grasped at his arms, tears stinging in her eyes, and her heart pounding with fear at the implications of this injury. And suddenly, she thought how if they succeeded in their journey, it was possible... though highly unlikely... that she would return to a form that could not fly. Now, with the thought that she'd already had her last flight, she wondered why she had ever wanted such a thing. What... what had her human name been, again? "Frita, my love," Arion cried, "talk to me. Are you all right?" Even as he watched her, Frita's eyes closed, her hand going limp in his own. He spent a few seconds trying to wake her before frantically looking at her wing. The tear was long, and he had no idea how to fix it. A few minutes had passed when a huge shadow fell over them, and Arion looked up. A human child, a boy with shaggy brown hair and a coarse-looking outfit, stood over them.
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9/4/2018 4:54:04 AM
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