Another year, another storm.
Skarinath had seen plenty of storms in his years. A strong and cool-headed flier, the golden eagle-gryphon had even flown through his share. He knew his limits, knew when it was time to give in and seek shelter, knew when he could in fact push on in spite of the weather and be confident of still landing safely.
More importantly, though, he also knew when he didn’t need to push it. The last time he’d flown this route in a storm, lives had rested on how quickly he made the trip, and with the particular storm that had been coming up behind him, he’d had every reason to believe that if he’d taken to the ground, he’d have lost days.
(more…)