Through all my years birdwatching in Vale Sangora and beyond, I’d never seen a specimen like the one I’ve spotted over Greifberg the other day. It flies out most eagerly after sunset, spreading its wings wide. Oh, how wide do those wings spread! I’d been perching on a balcony myself the past week, waiting for another sighting and hoping to see a pigeon or a sparrow flying near the Greifberg’s beast for a proper comparison. I could swear it’s a hundred times bigger than either, at least!
But alas, the great avian appears to scare other away, so all I’m left with is my own approximation of the size of its body and the wing span. I’d begun drafting sketches, trying to capture its form as best I could, fixing missed details each time I spotted the bird in another pose or act.
The bizarre thing is, despite watching it obsessively, I’d not seen it hunt or feed once. What does it feed on, I wonder? The thought does not leave my mind. I might never know peace until I find a way to approach the bird and figure out its secrets.
But alas, the great avian appears to scare other away, so all I’m left with is my own approximation of the size of its body and the wing span. I’d begun drafting sketches, trying to capture its form as best I could, fixing missed details each time I spotted the bird in another pose or act.
The bizarre thing is, despite watching it obsessively, I’d not seen it hunt or feed once. What does it feed on, I wonder? The thought does not leave my mind. I might never know peace until I find a way to approach the bird and figure out its secrets.