"Oh of course. There is no cure. And no talking Gryphons. No alternate worlds. No magic, or gods, hmm?" Gently, he biffs Viktor with the elbow-joint of one wing: get fluffed, nerd, "Are you the kind of man who faces the odds and gives up? Don't be so dramatic. People come back from the dead, here."
Are you secure? Yes? Good. Skan clutches the shard tightly in one talon, gathers himself for the leap and is off into the sky, just as before. The slip-stream from the seaward side is treacherous, at this angle, but he's grown used to it, and uses the interference off the cliffs as a boost, catching easily in the sheer between the cushioning still-air and the racing open winds. It's fit to be a brisk morning, and he settles in for the long climb up the wind.
Were he alone, Skan would simply be tempted to simply flap for it, and damn the effort, but he thinks his passenger would not appreciate being jostled about so vigorously.
"Let's just talk to some of the healers here. Miss Lior owes me a favor, and I'm sure I don't mind cashing it in to have her take a good long look at you. If you're willing."
no subject
Are you secure? Yes? Good. Skan clutches the shard tightly in one talon, gathers himself for the leap and is off into the sky, just as before. The slip-stream from the seaward side is treacherous, at this angle, but he's grown used to it, and uses the interference off the cliffs as a boost, catching easily in the sheer between the cushioning still-air and the racing open winds. It's fit to be a brisk morning, and he settles in for the long climb up the wind.
Were he alone, Skan would simply be tempted to simply flap for it, and damn the effort, but he thinks his passenger would not appreciate being jostled about so vigorously.
"Let's just talk to some of the healers here. Miss Lior owes me a favor, and I'm sure I don't mind cashing it in to have her take a good long look at you. If you're willing."