Sparrow Hood Novels & Stories

They often got on well enough to know about each other, or at the very least, entertain mutual and civil respect for one another. Samuel and I knew well enough that there was no Sparrow Harpy Clan. Such a thing didn't exist. The closest to this was the Hawk Harpy Clan, which had sparrow hawks within that clan, but they were very different and no Harpy bore a shifter's mark either. This young Sparrow was a true sparrow shapeshifter, and this hoard of Dark Ones had cut off one of her wings at such a young age. If she had ever flown before, being so young, she might have before now... yet if she had? Unfortunately, she would never again feel the joy of flight.

While Bo has a shining white head free of even a single strand of hair and a short thin (mostly gray) facial hair and smells like golden spice. Gray is standing on the left side of a semicircle made up of him, Cordelia and Bo, with cordelia being in the middle, a few yards just ahead of us. Gray’s holding a long thick metal link chain in his hands, conversing with the two. Iselyn and I stop a few feet away, just close enough to alert them to our presence and hear the conversation.

Ariadne was amazed with its beauty and quit surprised not ever seeing on ever. Moreover, a small great horned baby owl was resting itself on her shoulder. Its eyes were open and it has golden eye with black circles around it. It has pure white fur with black highlights its chest with thick feathers around its neck just like a fur. It keeps making a small ‘hooo’ sound every time she jumps. Eve hiss at her owl in a low voice. “Marion! You have to keep quiet! If anyone hear you, they will catch us and we’ll be punished for sure. Do you know how hard it is to hide from Khalid?”

I said. Void stared toward the horizon. "I know." Pause. "I just dislike not knowing where." Honest answer. Painfully honest. The lantern tree rustled softly overhead. Then suddenly— a lantern bird landed on the railing. Tiny thing. Made entirely of starlight. Hope's bird. It chirped once. Then took off. The bird flew three meters. Stopped. Looked back. Waited. Silence spread across the rooftop. The bird chirped again. Everyone stared. Hope's bird turned and flew toward the river district.

Attached to it by a thin silver wire… Was a handwritten note. Marcus carefully removed it. He unfolded the paper. His face drained of color. “What is it?” Amelia asked. Marcus handed her the note. It contained only one sentence. Welcome home, Little Sparrow. At the bottom was a symbol Amelia had never seen before. A black feather enclosed within a circle. Elias stared at it. His voice was barely above a whisper. “The Ravens…” Victor looked equally shaken. “I thought they were only a legend.” Elias met Amelia’s eyes.

The gesture was simple, but it still settled something warm in my chest. We were still standing in the doorway when another figure appeared behind her. Shorter. Wearing a dark hoodie with the hood pulled low enough to hide most of the face. The person stepped closer to Lia, almost too close. My body tensed on instinct. “I’m sorry,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Are you looking for someone?” A quiet, feminine voice answered. “I’m actually… I want to talk to you.” The voice was familiar. Soft. Something about the cadence tugged at the edge of my memory, but the hoodie and the lowered head made it impossible to place.

SCARLETT I stood behind Tasha with my hands clasped in front of me, and no matter how hard I blinked, the tears would not stop gathering. Sparrow stood a few paces away in a suit so sharp it looked like it had been sewn onto his bones, and he was staring straight at me. His eyes had found mine and they were not letting go, and I felt a smile pull at my mouth before I could stop it.

I wondered. “Nowadays, sparrows are believed to symbolize joy, community, teamwork, protection, simplicity, hard work, or self-worth. This hasn't always been the case, however. In Europe's Middle Ages, sparrows were believed to represent peasants and the lower class. In old Celtic tradition, sparrows were thought to be keepers of ancestral knowledge.” I became engrossed by her words and dared not interrupt her.

But there was someone who truly spoiled the view. Sparrow frowned and made a dump.

That was proof of the industrialist's experience and long range purpose, all of which made Marco feel better about the older man's motives. The troops were assembled and waiting by the time Marco passed under the hanger's lights. Not ideal prior to a night mission, but there would be time for their eyes to adjust. The legionnaires stood in a semicircle, their backs to an old bush beater, the smell of fuel hanging in the air. Sparrow had gone to some lengths in order to beat his commanding officer into the hangar, and looked sharp enough for inspection. He shouted "Ten hut!" and the entire squadron crashed to attention.