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... wing'd creature elapses into clear atmosphere, bedragled and jaded after uncountable miles flown. Much appologising was now to be done, but Silver... his dear Silver, how his heart ached to see her once more. No explanation could he give, but perhaps his son's death is reason enough. Perhaps. Extended limbs absorb the heavy impact of his landing, splayed wings folding neatly as they had done a hunred thousand times. Fathomless, vacant eyes rake the terrain for her, for any; features just waiting to be alighted once more by her presence ))
(( winthdrawn ))
come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed,
while I thy amiable cheeks do coy,
and stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head,
and kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy
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