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Sophia settled on a Sunday in the afternoon after mass. She had always favored birds-of-prey, taking the form of slim merlins and swift peregrines to flush mice out from the grass.
When she came back to his hand, however, it was as a great russet colored eagle, feathers of pure gold trailing down her neck and talons the size of his fingers. His arm strained to hold her up. She turned to look at him with fierce brown eyes for the thousandth and first time. Jed swallowed to see her.
"In this form, I can protect you." She explained, balancing herself just-so to avoid nicking him with her claws.
"In that form, you could kill livestock."
"Yes," she agreed.
That evening, Jed looked to her, preening her flight feathers carefully. "Saint John the Apostle had an eagle daemon too."