Seeing their father watching them, the second and third sons, hand in hand, spread their wings together and, accompanied by a cluster of twinkling white light, soared into the sky.
When everyone's eyes, irritated by the white light, narrowed open, those flying above and below the sky were neither the chubby Frost Snow Pichu Beasts nor the small Mourinho, but a pair of Iris Birds with wings spread wide, their bodies covered in snow feathers. They danced gracefully in the sky dragging colorful long tails, each about three meters long, sleek in build, their bodies closely pressed together, each flapping one of their wings as if they were one.
