‘I want to see dragons,’ he said, gazing longingly through the scrying mirror. ‘I want to see fire and wind, and feel the sun on my face. Do you understand?’

She didn’t, but she wanted to. She stitched the wings of a raven to a crawling lizard, and filled it with the cold spark of her heart. She held it out to him; it leapt from her hands to his, and clacked its jaws at him cheerfully.

‘What’s this?’ he asked.

‘A going away present.’

‘I love you, mum.’

Microfiction written for Mastodon.

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