The Woodjin: Fly Free by Lbilover


The mood in the hospital was somber. 


“Are we losing him?” Sean asked quietly.


“He wants to die.” Elijah’s throat worked. “I can’t- I can’t hold him here…”


The small bundle of tawny-gray on the table grew still. 


“Fly free, little one,” Elijah whispered, lightly touching a feather. Then his bowed head lifted, eyes tracking upward. 


For a moment, Sean fancied he saw a ripple in the air as the owl’s spirit soared skyward, leaving his broken body behind. Then it smoothed. He was gone, one with the pine-scented wind.


But Elijah was earth-bound and grieving; Sean gathered him close.

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