From the sky came a cawing sound, and in swooped Hawking, straight through the annex window and into the lounging room. Salīa trailed right after.
Her day had far caught up with her, especially with all she was doing to quickly prepare for the Freedom Festival. Yet here alone in the palace, all that which she had tried to push down was trying to pull her down deeper.
"Hawking," she held him, wishing she could hug him as tightly as she wanted to with her family.
She inked out a letter for them, tearing as she wrote.
"They are out there," Salīa bound her scroll in the blue ribbon she picked from her hair. She wrapped it gently around the parchment and firmly tied it to Hawking's gold ring.
She nodded for Hawking to leave. He stood there.
"Go on."
Hawking shuffled from side to side across the table, eyeing her.
"Go," Salīa commanded and swooped him to the window.
Hawking flew up, then landed again, still staring.
"Have you lost your wings? Or your mind? Take this," she steamed. "Deliver this."
He stood still. Salīa hooked the letter so tightly into his claws that he bit her and screeched.
"Go!" she shoved him out the window before slamming it.
He stood beyond the glass; his feathers already soaked.
"Please, go," she sobbed.
She was about to open the window, yet he took off, leaving her to cry.
"Princess, can we talk?"
Salīa turned.
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