You are a Raven.

A small, insightful little thing that no one often notices unless you or your counterpart, a crow, are being compared to death.

But, recently, a Star field Phoenix has been spotted in the forest you bestow with your beauty.

He claims that he is there nothing more to rest, and that he is heading to a ceremony for another Phoenix that's maturing. He doesn't look very mature himself, as his feathers don't glow with the smoke of fire, his eyes don't Blaze with anger and resentment; instead, his feathers shimmer red and orange in the sunlight, his eyes gentle yet tired.

You have decided to accompany him, your feathers easily smoothing over the wind while he is desperately, wildly flapping his wings to keep pace with your small frame. "You know," He said, a distant look in his eyes as he stared at the sunset that pained the sky pink and purple. "For something so insignificant, you are quite important to your friends."

The Phoenix snorted. "That little sparrow that approached me before we left was practically begging to come along."