"Breathing's good." One of the good things about the beach, you could breathe. Or at least Coby always could. Sun, rhythm of the surf, and here as much space as they could need. He wondered, the thought rising up and floating away just as easily, if this is what fire felt like to Jag.
He willed his wings away and rolled his shoulders to try and break up the tension some, then followed Jag's example of getting out of his shoes and socks.
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He willed his wings away and rolled his shoulders to try and break up the tension some, then followed Jag's example of getting out of his shoes and socks.