​I’ll never forget the day the sky changed. I was checking my crab pots near the Whispering Banks when a heavy, pre-storm hum filled the air. High above the cliffs, I saw Aurum, a Hippogriff with feathers that shone like polished brass. ​He was watching a stray Flutterfox trapped on a crumbling ledge. As gale-force winds began to howl, the rock started to give way. The little creature was doomed. ​Aurum didn’t hesitate. To reach the ledge in time, he had to dive through a narrow canyon gap – a space far too small for his massive wings. He had two choices. He could ​wait and let the Flutterfox fall or ​dive and risk everything. ​Aurum tucked his wings and plummeted. The wind slammed him against the razor-sharp obsidian walls, and the rocks crushed against him as he shielded the Flutterfox with his own body. ​When they finally landed in the grass near my feet, the Flutterfox was safe, but Aurum’s wings were gone—sheared away by the stone and the storm. ​I spent weeks nursing him back to health. As he healed, his body changed. He became sturdier and more muscular, built for the earth rather than the clouds. He was no longer a creature of the air; he had become a Golden Riffroc. ​”Courage isn’t always about flying high,” I told him. “Sometimes, it’s about having the strength to stay grounded so someone else doesn’t fall.” ​Today, Aurum doesn’t look at the peaks with sadness. He runs through the meadows with a thunderous stride, happy and free. He lost his sky, but he gained a soul of pure gold.