"Brother Damien, you came alone this time. Please, join me for breakfast. We have much to discuss today."
A sharp, echoing peal of laughter rang down from the sky in response.
Suddenly, the enormous white cloud shaped like a lounging elephant scattered into wisps, revealing a dashing young man descending gracefully. He wore a thick, majestic coat fashioned from the hide of some ferocious beast. His golden, beastlike eyes glinted with amusement, and the white lion tattoo emblazoned across his forehead radiated authority.
It was Damien—the second-in-command of the Three Fangs Kingdom.
He floated down and landed effortlessly on a thick branch beside the mockingbird.
John gave the lion-eyed youth a side glance. Damien's appearance was as majestic as ever, and John couldn't help but feel a pang of avian inferiority.
"Damn, why does being a bird mean sacrificing all aesthetic appeal?" he grumbled inwardly.
With a chirp, he said, "Wait here a moment," and fluttered into the cavern.
