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Summary
Mipha comes around to Revali’s side, and as she moves the teeth of her trident press up through his feathers, forcing him to turn his head to look at her: lit from behind by the last of the afternoon sun, reflecting off the water’s surface and onto her scales, resplendent, gleaming.
“Yield,” Mipha says softly, and Revali has never wanted anything more.
a sparring match gone right.
[ miphvali; miphlink mentioned; miphvalink if you squint ]
Series
- Part 3 of feather and scale