"You know," I said to the pigeon eating the other half of my bagel, "I thought an ancient bird god would be less hungry all the time."
His feathers puffed up. "If you were cursed to live as a fraction of your former self and serve a human bloodline, it would work up an appetite in you as well. Now give me that bagel. Have we got a nation to conquer today? How about a forest to burn?"
I wasn't sure exactly how Cyclone Wing had ended up here. My family had been keeping carrier pigeons ever since World War I, when they were used to carry secret messages, and I was continuing the tradition of taking care of the birds. They liked to go on walks sometimes. No one had ever mentioned that one of those pigeons talked, though. Or that he claimed to be a firebird god trapped in a pigeon's body. I saw no other logical explanation for a talking pigeon, so I had accepted that as fact.
"Let's not burn anything," I told him. "Let's go down to the lakefront and see if anything fun is happening."
Cyclone huffed and followed me towards the shore. A few kids on bikes passed us, and a mom with a stroller. As we reached the lake, I saw a man with a big, fluffy Labradoodle. The dog started towards us, and I reached out my hand to let it sniff me. "Can I pet him?" I asked the man.
The man shook his head and pursed his lips. I retracted my hand sadly, but the dog ignored me. It headed directly for Cyclone. I started to tell my bird god not to attack the Labradoodle, but I didn't get the chance. The dog bared its fangs and spoke.
"Cyclone Wing," it growled, in a female voice. "Flamehurler. Windshaper. Thief of the Sun Seed. You thought you could escape me?"
Cyclone shrunk back. "Great to see you too, Blizzard Fang. Didn't know you were living among mortals now." Suddenly, he grabbed the back of my shirt with his talons. "Time to run!" he squawked.