Over the misty mountains cold [OPEN]

remi Circling high above, Remi looked downwards sceptically. Rather than his pale and inquisitive pale green stare, now he wore the hardened and inscrutable amber gaze of a predator. Below all he could see was mist–even with his impressive gaze. It was mist and mist and mist. There was the bridge of course, but Remi was hardly interested in the bone-white stone that formed an impossibly physics-defying bridge. Would he ever walk over it as a man? Only if he had to. As a hawk however, without any of the needless anxiety related to plummeting to his death, Remi could instead focus his attention on the mist itself. It lingered despite the weather and the odd topography. There shouldnt’ be this much moisture floating in the air...and yet...here it was. Crying out loudly just to test the limits of the echo and cadence of his cry, Remi tilted his feathered head to listen as the sound was all but dissolved by the mist below.