The Birthday Star, Part 2

The giant bird began to take flight. 

In light trails of burning gold, gliding slowly, magnificently, with its deep crimson colors. The shrill whistle of fireworks still soaring, like its sonorous call, its signature song, piercing through the night that it almost entirely encompasses. 

Suffice it to say, it was a pretty big fucking bird, alright. Everyone knows that bigger always means better, and who'd say no to Ria in giant form? 

That's sarcasm, I feel I should mention, just in case. 

I don't actually think the world can handle a level of snark large enough to engulf a portion of the stratosphere. I'm pretty sure that's how you create a black hole or something.

That being said, all things considered, what filled the nightly view here, the lustrous twinkle and sparkle of dozens of makeshift feathers, the dive and soar of wings majestic and grand… what a sight to behold she was, indeed.