Gyrfalcon's Keep moored

Grayday's tail kicked into overdrive as he gazed upon the myriad of feathers littered about. Catori strolled up beside him while his heart pounded excitedly; he turned his head and planted a sloppy lick on the side of her muzzle.

"Let's take them all!" he declared, bounding into the mess and grabbing as many as he saw. Soon enough, though, he found himself distracted. Surrounded by the smell of feathers and with the floaty presence of Catori by his side, Grayday soon reverted to his basest, most natural state: rolling around in bird droppings and feathers, an expression of euphoria and liberal amounts of drool on his face.