The eagle

I've met an eagle once. I gave her a secret name, we became friends. I saw her these days. Her fly was smother, her laugh easier. I was happy to be with her as usual. But when we had to part I beheld something. It was just for a gleam. Her eyes were full with something between fear, retreat and grief, yet none of these. It could be an illusion, but even so, it was more than I could bear. I felt lost for a long moment. Who will teach me to fly if my eagle forgets to laugh? And what I need is the last thing that matters.