Stavanger Bay You know what they say, no man's an island, no.

Through broken clouds she danced until a down-draft pushed her towards a slough heavy with snow, and there she hastily grasped for purchase among the blanketed trees. A branch sags and scatters snow in her wake. She tucks her wings with care.

There was a poorly manifested shadow gathering among the rocks below. She turned her head. A whimpering drew her attention — a sob breaking free somewhere beneath her — and she is silently observing.