Dragoncrest Cliffs The wave crashed in, now the dream is dead

Treepie must’ve misunderstood him. Did he say falcons? Her lips parted, though the stranger moved on to talks of painkilling salves. He insisted the tide didn’t bother him, though he agreed to walk clear of the encroaching surf. Pie had the distinct feeling he was doing it for her sake more than his own. She stepped back to give him room to rise, her mouth opening and closing.

When he began shambling inland, mentioning a hole in the cliff face, her eyes darted ahead, then flicked back to his face. She rewound and replayed everything he’d said so far as they walked slowly toward where the sands sifted at the foot of the cliffs.

Did you say falcons? she finally blurted, thinking idly of Wyvern. Falcons did this, Pie continued, stopping to wave a paw toward his wounds, to you?