Callum wheels through the air above the Outer Brambles of the Hollowed Grounds, golden falcon's eyes fixed on the ground far below. The Labyrinth stretches out far below, a landmark in the sea of islands dotting the landscape. It's midday, and the sun shines brightly overhead. Even the area he knows is Levinsward, a region constantly bombarded by rain, thunder, and lightning, seems to be sunny today. It's hot, and Cal has been searching for the better part of an hour for somewhere to escape the noon heat.
He spots a copse of trees far below in an area bordering the Glade and begins to descend. Perhaps he can find some shade and wait out the worst of the heat. His flight is lazy, his path meandering. He is very clearly a bird not on the hunt. He lands in one of the trees and shuffles closer to the trunk, where he hopes that the leaves will protect him from the sun.
He spots a copse of trees far below in an area bordering the Glade and begins to descend. Perhaps he can find some shade and wait out the worst of the heat. His flight is lazy, his path meandering. He is very clearly a bird not on the hunt. He lands in one of the trees and shuffles closer to the trunk, where he hopes that the leaves will protect him from the sun.
With quiet words I'll lead you in and out of the dark
