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A blush immediately blooms across his cheeks. “Oh.” He rubs the back of his neck. “It’s… not my finest work. But I’m glad you like it.”
I blink. “Not your finest work?”
He bites his lip. “I know there are still things I can improve.”
I laugh softly, shaking my head. “You have impossibly high standards.”
He shrugs bashfully. “Maybe that’s what makes me such a good blacksmith.”
A smile tugs at my lips. “Maybe it is.”
He loosens the leather straps and unfastens each buckle with practiced fingers before glancing up at me.
“So…” His eyes flick toward Maple. “Should we see how they fit?”
I nod. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”
I crouch beside Maple, fishing a handful of dried venison treats from my coat pocket. The instant she catches the scent, her tail begins wagging furiously.
“Good girl,” I murmur, scratching beneath her chin.
She happily crunches the first treat, blissfully unaware as Lucan kneels on her opposite side.
His movements are slow and careful. He gently lifts one of her tiny wing stumps, examining the fit before carefully settling the prosthetic into place.
Maple flinches.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, stroking the side of her neck. “You’re alright.”
While she busies herself chewing, Lucan threads the padded leather harness beneath her forelimbs and around her chest, adjusting each strap until it sits snugly without pinching. One by one, he fastens the polished brass buckles before securing the articulated joints around her wing stumps.
He pauses after tightening the final strap. “Too tight?”
I slide two fingers beneath the leather.
“No.” I smile. “Perfect.”
Lucan gives the last buckle one final check before slowly withdrawing his hands.
“There.”
Together, we step back.
For a long moment, Maple simply stands there. She twists her neck from side to side, clearly aware that something feels different. One wing gives an experimental twitch.
She takes a tentative step.
Within seconds, she’s forgotten all about the strange new contraption strapped to her body. She breaks into an eager trot across the pasture. Her tail swishes happily behind her as she races through the grass.
I find myself holding my breath.
Maple bounds over a small mound of earth. Her prosthetic wings spread open, the leather membranes expanding.
Then, they flap.
Once.
Twice.
