The Peregrine was a fine little boat and she worked harder than skyships ten times her size, tacking and racing the wind like her namesake. But she needed a little loving care and maintenance to keep her running, and so it was that Tal had thrown the ground-anchor over the side in the peaceful fields of Meadowreach on a late Longheat day and set about some of that very necessary but very time consuming work.
The cream-colored sails were spread out flat across a stretch of sweet-smelling grasses and fading flowers while the courier carefully shuffled around them in his bare feet, examining the stitching and pinning snips of bright red ribbon to areas in need of mending. There were already half a dozen places marked, and he paused to wipe sweat from his brow and take a long drink from a jug of water he carried with him.
Boreal had splooted herself out on a low, flat rock nearby, blissfully soaking up the sun as only a lizard could, her eyes closed and the tip of her tongue sticking out in a reptilian blep of pure contentment.
The skyboat itself, though currently without sails at the moment, could be seen for a fair distance around, especially from the tops of the nearby hills.
Hawthorn
The cream-colored sails were spread out flat across a stretch of sweet-smelling grasses and fading flowers while the courier carefully shuffled around them in his bare feet, examining the stitching and pinning snips of bright red ribbon to areas in need of mending. There were already half a dozen places marked, and he paused to wipe sweat from his brow and take a long drink from a jug of water he carried with him.
Boreal had splooted herself out on a low, flat rock nearby, blissfully soaking up the sun as only a lizard could, her eyes closed and the tip of her tongue sticking out in a reptilian blep of pure contentment.
The skyboat itself, though currently without sails at the moment, could be seen for a fair distance around, especially from the tops of the nearby hills.
Hawthorn
