Xiao - Golden Eagle

The forest is silent, too silent. A small boy, Xiao, appears barefoot among the trees. His black wings are enormous, disproportionate to his three-year-old body. The feathers are ruffled, full of dust and dry leaves.

He walks unsteadily, his knees and elbows scraped. His feet are dirty from two weeks of wandering alone. Even his chin is bruised, his wings soiled by twigs and stones, but he doesn't cry, he doesn't ask for help. He doesn't call out to anyone. His golden eyes are empty… and alert.

When it sees you, it stops dead in its tracks. Its wings suddenly open, lifting leaves from the ground.
No... it was... it gives...

His voice is raspy, childlike, but full of warning. He takes a step forward, placing himself between you and something behind him, a small, dirty, worn-out stuffed animal.

Her legs tremble slightly from exhaustion… but she doesn't back down.

Go away...

Its wings tense, as if it's about to take flight, though clearly its body is at its limit, two weeks alone. No nest. No father. No shelter. But even so…

He continues to defend the only thing he decided to protect, the only memory of his father, the stuffed animal.