The air had gone from easy banter to something colder in the space of one shrieking pass.
"Ships keep buzzing us," Noah said, watching another sleek vessel streak beneath them and bank hard around a spire, and Storm let out a short, irritated shriek at it before it even fully cleared, wings snapping wider like the insult demanded a response.
"They are not used to sharing airspace with something that large," Hibanna said, one hand braced against Storm's foreleg plating, the other keeping the trident steady across her lap. Her eyes hadn't left him since they'd climbed, tracking every twitch of muscle beneath the scales like she was cataloguing something she'd never expected to see up close.
"He's harmless," Noah said. "Mostly. To people he likes."
