flesh empire

DAY 362: CINNAMON INK

Anthro version of @shaniae-rising‘s Cinnamon. 

Canon proved by Shan: Sodalite asked Berly if he could take Cinnamon to view the Synergy Clan’s facilities in the Flesh-Weaver Empire; which is a very good, clean place for the Wastelands. She brought pastries for the Synergies and my chef dragons, Shurah and Nexus, really spotted the potential. They gave her a chef’s coat and apron and shown her some extra tricks to baking and cooking!

As she returned to the Clan of the Wild Path, she cherished those lessons and made twice as many delicious sweet goods!

I noticed that I didn’t make the coat right. Woops

guys. GUYS. listen here. in QOS, Aelin referred to Rowan as “a storm given flesh”. A STORM GIVEN FLESH. Empire of Storms??? The white feathers on Aelin’s jacket in the picture above? idk but can you just imagine: ——

Aelin felt her power coursing through her immortal veins as she readied herself. The plan was soon to be put into action. Rowan-in his beautiful white-tailed hawk form-flew overhead. She felt a burning sense of pride at her beautiful mate.

The queen smirked at the Perrington, who smiled cruelly in return. She watched as the duke gestured at Rowan, and suddenly, oh so suddenly, arrows began flying at her mate, her carranam. He dodged them with ease, rotating and turning at speeds that even her Fae eyes could barely catch. But there—there. Aelin knew what was going to happen before it did. As her Rowan turned to return to her, a wyvern—the Wing Leader’s pet— swooped down. The wyvern snatched Rowan out of the air and took off.

Aelin loosed a scream that rattled the stars. She fell to the ground as the world shook, as the wyvern carried away a piece of her soul. Her fire raced across the battle field, killing every one of her enemies. She could feel her allies retreat behind her, scared of her, of what she was doing. She torched every last Valg on the ground. Then, as the bonfire of hope in her chest reduced itself to mere embers, she saw them. The white feathers floating to the ground, her carranam’s feathers. Her soul shattered and with it, so did Perrington’s mind.

The Queen of Terrasen remained on her knees, even as her fire died and the ashes of her enemies floated away in the wind. The wind. She let a tear slide down her cheek as she stood up. As she gazed at her people. She saw her friends— Aedion, Sam, Dorian, Chaol, Lysandra and Nesyrn. The first of her court, and the Silent Assassins behind them. Rowan was alive, she could feel his life force. But he was with the witches, the man haters. And now, she was on her way to them. Anyone who stood in the way of her and her carranam would die. She promised him as she grabbed his feathers.