Excitement flooded her little body, pushing her through the branches with ease. It had been several days since she left the dark, swampy confines of her Keeper's abode, down in the depths of the Great Trunk, the World Tree, the Thousand Stretching Arms of Arcadia. For this limited time, she ran, free, to the pinnacle to deliver a single message. It was not the first time she had been there, nor the last, but each time brought her before Him. And He treated her far better than the Wyrm.


That thought made her lose her footing, tripping on a vine, and scrabbling for grip as her legs dangled over a precipice a hundred metres above the next branch. With a grunt of determination, she dragged her naked, red-furred body back to safety and breathed deeply to recover. She had passed several enemy patrols and was not going to let a lack of concentration halt her task, not now, being this close.


With a launch she continued upwards towards the highest branch and the golden feathered arms of Him. It was what pushed her onwards.