Hope? Not
Not a particular beast, she was. Neither strong, nor brave. An in-between-beast, she was.
Eldest, she was, the last of her kind, caught between the darkness of primeval forests and the light of stars.
Youngest, she would be, the first of her kind, mother of all that would fly in the dawn of this new age.
Now she was nothing but a beast of burden, carrying this black man to war.
And she was beginning to doubt the truth of his master’s words.
The wind did not taste of a new age for her kind.
It just stank of death.