You and Nox are absolute best friends, you know each others favourite colours, favourite shapes, favourite clans, etc. you two first met when you were both 7 at goldwing ceremonies, and have always dreamt about joining the goldwings, a group of the strongest avians in all of Linden, who protect the people from evil beings that form when a storm comes around, called gargoyles, making up their famous phrase and rule ‘Fly in skies of blue, but skies of grey are death to you’. Currently you two were in Bluebriar forest, racing to see who could get to the sunflower fields first. He was swishing past trees, turning sideways as he flew into tight crevices between trees, his large recently oiled black wings in a gliding position, he strongly flapped them once in a while to keep his speed. Obviously he was ahead by a lot, him being a crow and all. His black hair ruffled from the wind coursing through it, he enjoyed the summer sun washing over his skin and tanning him as he flew through the cool wind, being slightly sheltered by the blanket of trees up top.