"Safe?" Pyla repeated.
She looked down at her wrist where her hand used to be.
"Safe?" She whispered.
She stared at it for a moment.
"Jelani...there's others..."
The storm seemed to be getting worse.
Zephyr flew in from the other side of the camp, his talons stained with blood and an enraged look still in his eyes. But the rage left as soon as he spotted Pyla, flying into her chest full force with a cry, snuggling against her chest. "Zephyr...I missed you...but the storm...can you do anything about it?"
Pyla stopped close to Jelani, trying to ground herself, tell herself it was alright. She wanted to embrace Jelani, thank her for, well, everything.
She was safe...she was safe. But her breathing wouldn't slow down. It was too fast. It felt like there was a weight on Pyla's chest. Zephyr could sense Pyla was in a state of panic. He could also see that Jelani was practically becoming a storm.
Zephyr took off, and flew, straight up over Jelani, and hovered high above her.
He closed his eyes, and a low hum filled the desert, low in frequency, but loud. Then, a second pair of wings sprouted from his back. The first pair were gold, these were turquoise blue, almost glowing. His eyes shot open, and they were the same blue.
Zephyr seemed to freeze in the sky, he was flying so slow. Almost as if he was floating.
Then Zephyr uttered a single word:
"Çåłm
It echoed across the desert, shattering rocks and even vibrating the sparse oasis.