The Skybound Bond
In a vast forest kissed by dawn and brushed by twilight winds, lived two birds whose hearts found rhythm in each other’s song—though their worlds were never the same.
Aro was a falcon, proud and fearless. He loved the thrill of heights, racing with clouds and staring into the heart of a storm. Liri was a dove, soft-voiced and gentle, content with the quiet beauty of the forest floor and the golden hush of mornings.
Every day, they met at the same branch on an old acacia tree.
Aro would tell of winds that nearly pulled him into the sky’s endless cradle.
Liri would describe flowers that bloomed only for a moment and vanished by dusk.
“Why do you stay so low, Liri?” Aro would ask.
“And why must you always chase the sky?” she’d reply with a smile.
They laughed, learned, and leaned into each other’s worlds.
But one day, Aro didn’t come.
The sky was empty. The acacia branch still.
Worried, Liri flew higher than ever before, calling his name into the wind.
She searched until twilight, until even her wings ached. Just as she was about to turn back, a shadow swept from a cliff above—Aro, bruised and tired.
“I was caught in a storm,” he said weakly. “I didn’t think I’d make it back.”
Liri wrapped her wings around him.
“Then stay a while,” she whispered.
And for once, the falcon rested—not on a mountain, but beside a dove.
From that day forward, they still met on their acacia branch, but sometimes, Aro flew lower.
And sometimes, Liri flew higher.
Their worlds stayed different, but their bond—skybound and rooted—remained unshakable.