Ithiel is by me!
The dusky coyote watched his bird depart, big wings flapping to catch the updraft of the day's escaping heat. It was not yet hot enough to provide Zedekiah with optimal flying, and he was near-useless in the dark in any case. He was a bird more suited to the lands surrounding Scintilla -- hot and arid and dead, dangerous and far more foreboding than the flowering fields of the Waste and the bay. The granite-furred hybrid was not fooled, however -- even the prettiest grottos might hold a dangerous enemy.
Bairre gave a snort beneath him, and Ithiel snapped to attention, one lip lifting in frustration at his distraction. He was tired and it had been a long day -- it had been long weeks recently. The thought of them made his head ache all the more, and he nearly turned back and toward Inferni in pursuit of his bird. It was Bairre's reaction which made him hesitate -- the horse seemed more alert than usual, his friendliness still apparent, as if there was someone to greet. The drab coyote's mouth set in a thin line, and he eased the horse forward, more alert himself now that his horse seemed to have noticed something. His bow was still on his back, but he was ready to grab it and the necessary arrow all the same.
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