Quin
Quin flew, higher and higher, riding the warm air thermals upwards until Tarragon was a speck beneath him. He had always pondered the thought of running away. It was easy enough, just the continuous beat of his wings. Only he had something to stay for, he had Sonnet. Now Tarragon was just a meaningless plot of land, it held no calling for him. She didn't want him and he had to respect that. But there was still that dull pain in his chest, like part of him wasn't quite there. He didn't cry for her, he couldn't let himself, he didn't let himself. The wind picked up slightly, carrying along scents of Tarragon that made him wince. He could smell her distress in the air and It pained him. All Quin wanted was to turn back to her, but he couldn't hurt her again.
He didn't know where to go, there was nowhere else left for him. The air grew colder and colder the higher he went, bitting at his wings and numbing his breath. Soon it would grow warmer. Quin thought, soon there would be relief. He'd never flown this high before, there was good reason. But Quin was beyond reason. He soared above the clouds, rasping for air where there clearly was none. He paused, letting his wings skip a beat, gazing down at the world in all it's cruelty. But that was just the thing, there was no world now, not without her, so without hesitation he flew up into the atmosphere.
*fried bird for breakfast!
