Learning To Fly Without Wings

By Melody Hewson

Taiyra Sunmourn is a young tarin doe in training to become a druid, but it is also her dream to learn how to take on the forms of other animals and even to fly. The journey is not and easy one, however, and there are many lessons her two teachers, an elder druid and a black eagle, have to teach her. Taiyra's unwavering determination and keeps her coming back after every failure, and hope keeps alive her dream of learning to fly on eagle's wings.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melody Hewson
• Release date: Jul 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311843715

Melody Hewson

I am an author, a teller of stories both long and short, real & imagined. So for the sake of my own amusement, here’s a bit of information about me, written in the form of a short story. Whatever information you can gleam from these words is what you are worthy of knowing about it's creator.Hazel eyes stared up at a cloudless sky before falling to take in the house below it. To some, it would be judged by its flaws ; it's fading paint and scuffed floors. But to her it was perfect. It was hers. And it was home. To one side, a wild forest whispered sweet nothings in the breeze, which was answered by some distant bird's call. "Life is good." She said softly to no one. "And today is a good day."The sudden squawking of wild fowl pulled her attention to the shaggy black and white dog that rarely strayed far from her side."God damn it, Jackalope! Quit chasing those turkeys!""I looked heavenward for angels, while beautiful demons showed me the way." - Shannon Nacyl

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Learning To Fly Without Wings

Written by: Melody Hewson

Smashwords Edition

Copyright Melody Hewson 2013

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Taiyra. Hearing her name called, Taiyra looked up to see one of the elders standing over her, his shadow stretching out behind him. He wore a long, loose robe and leaned heavily on a gnarled wooden stave that served as a walking stick. Come. He said once he had her attention, then turned and began to walk away.

Taiyra dropped the twig she had been using to draw patterns in the soil and scrambled to her feet to follow after him. The elder was slow and sometimes had to stop to catch his breath, but he asked for no assistance, so the young doe offered none and stayed respectfully at his side or behind him as they made their way to his tent.

Despite her outward patience, inside Taiyra was bubbling over with excitement and curiosity. She had been learning the ways of the druids since she had come to live with her grandmother, also an elder, and she had eagerly taken to her lessons. There was not a plant in all the valley that she could not identify. There was not a bit of lore she could not recite from memory. She even had ready the seeds that would grow into her very own life-vine when she was finally accepted as a healer. But she had not yet learned to change her form.

Shape shifting was a gift granted to the druids long before the Great War and the coming of the humans, or so said the lore she had been taught. Taiyra had waited eagerly for her chance to learn, and had long ago chosen her forms. Her thoughts were still racing as they finally reached the elder's tent and he had to call her name twice before she was able to calm them enough to pay attention again.

Taiyra! He said a third time. "Wake up lotha degahr." Little dreamer. Taiyra knew the old tongue, but rarely heard it spoken. It had been part of her studies to learn it.

I'm sorry, Elder Swiftclaw. The young doe replied, bowing her