[ Cain let Aymeric go, but didn't move to follow him, sunk prone into the singed grass with his eyes closed, just feeling himself breathe.

And thn he began pushing himself up, tight lipped. Slowly, stiffly, began to gain his feet. ]

No.

I've never... I need to look at it.

And it's... I could feel it, in the fire. Its magic. Its... it was... just an animal.

[ He moved past Aymeric, reaching his hands out for a feathered wing. Followed along the shape of it, walking around without stepping on half-ruined feathers. Jogged over to its crested head. His expression of joy had faded fast into something tight, almost miserable. ]

It's... beautiful....