One Ear Back

The shadows between the trees were dark and I stood between two birches, sniffing out the right way. My tail was high. This was no headless mouse. This would impress Ingy.

Death and the Thunderbird, Pt. I

A shattering scream from the roof of the train; another body tumbling hooves over head. A baleful eye glaring out of the locomotive smoke, and Bienor could no longer deny it: something was there, neither centaur nor human. As he hunkered down against the corner of the coal-car, he struggled to accept it. Whether a ghost, a god, or the malevolent sorcerous eye of Eurytus, it was there. Real. The thunderbird.

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One Ear Back

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I was looking into his ankle, then there was a frightening jerk on my tail and I was peering into his long wide face.
From the Archives:
The Swallow and the Sea
I had a small trunk, but it was large enough to hold Abigail.