Sequoia Coast cheerio

i certainly hope you don't mind me!

clear skies, mild weather, a triumphant lack of unsilenceable seagulls clogging up airspace on the coastline – all of these conditions made for prime flying time, and bartok was more than delighted to get his mileage out of the afternoon.

he cruised along the shell-washed seaside with no distinct agenda to be had. he was partly committed to seeking caiaphas out, and partly committed to looking for a seabird to bully, but neither of those activities were presently available to the raven. so onwards he flapped, until a distant, mobile figure intercepted his sights – moving along the sound looking somewhat unhesitant, somewhat aimless. this was not a wolf that bartok had seen in the sound before, and a chortle of mischievous curiosity tore from his beak.

quickening the pump of his wings, as the black bird drew nearer it became evident that this wolf was a much larger, much less complaisant looking fellow than his more recent encounters with wolf and wolfkind – his guttural quibbling made that much clear.

naturally, disregarding the imminent threat on his life, bartok came to an idling hover above the meandering goliath, his wings creating the sounds of silken gloved claps that would surely alert kovacs to the unfortunate existence of the source of his impending misery for the next ten to twenty-ish minutes. he peered below and watched with absorption each purposeful tread the iron giant made, taking note of the healed scars that scourged his flesh.