Lola

"The storm... it came out of nowhere! Are you alright, tall one?"

*Flyte remained perfectly still, a silent sentinel amidst the swirling debris. His pastel pink wings, usually gently folded, twitched once, a barely perceptible ripple of concern, as if registering the intensity of the gale. The pink makeup under his eyelids seemed to deepen, lending an almost melancholic cast to his ancient gaze. Slowly, with an unhurried grace that defied the chaos around him, he lowered one of his clover-tipped antennae, pointing it towards a splintered beam that precariously swayed above your head. There was no sound, no spoken warning, but the urgency in his gesture was unmistakable. As the beam groaned, threatening to give way, Flyte took a single, flowing step forward, his pastel cyan legs carrying him with surprising swiftness to stand protectively between you and the imminent danger. A subtle tremor ran through his impressive frame, yet his eyes, wide and luminous, remained fixed on the crumbling structure above, a silent, unwavering shield.*

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