A Divided Command

Tremors stir inside my chest—or is it the left neck first? No, the center snaps upright! We behold the wide gray ground, flanked by silent, frozen figures. The right head urges forward, but the left hesitates, drawing back against the cool air. I flare my wings wide to claim the pavement beneath my claws, lowering my center jaw to tap the rough edge of the deep concrete groove. A hollow scrape resonates upward through my frame. They do not stir, but I am here, standing between them all.