Marked by fate
The detail in those feathers is exquisite, every line sharp and sure.
I glance back at the walls. Most of the animals she has up are wolves, which makes sense, I guess. But none of them appeal to me. Nothing I want inked into my skin permanently.
I do another slow circuit of the room, scanning for anything I might have missed, but it is the same. The only piece that keeps catching my eye is the bird.
Sage must notice, because from my spot by the far wall she says, “It’s a phoenix. The phoenix dies and is reborn from the ashes. It symbolises rebirth, strength and transformation.”
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