In the heavens, things are clearer. There is no confusion like that of the world below. Miniscule creatures, all of them. Filling their days with breathy phrases that had no meaning and wasting their lives on pointless problems. They plot and tinker, hoping to leave an immortal mark in some way, or perhaps even become immortal themselves. Zeik is not so distracted. In his bird form he can see things they cannot, the gentle rustle of life in the grass below. Far away into the distance there is movement. He can sense, hear things they would not even begin to understand. A few, powerful beats of his blue-grey wings and he can escape them all with bursts of quick speed. They are confined to one body. He is the master of two.
With the tilt of his head the falcon-shifter peers down upon two mares. In passing curiosity he listens, and then decides that the gathering is in need of closer investigation. He folds his wings to his body and makes for a secluded spot some some distance away before landing with a queerish bird-like hop in the tall grasses. They cannot see him, so small a creature that he is in this form, but he focuses and shifts back to the body he was born with. Soon, a blue roan is standing knee-deep in the vegetation were once a peregrine falcon was. He gives himself a second to adjust to the body of a prey creature, and then blinks his mahogany eyes before picking up a swift trot.
He joins them with a sullen look, glancing over the resting buckskin before pinpointing the horned mare with a rather unimpressed frown. “Clearly, you’re not. Though I’ll admit the show you put on is the most interesting thing about you.” His head tilts, and he imagines that the kingdom who controls her invisible strings must be one for theatrics. He sighs, and returns his attention back to the buckskin mare. No doubt she would be as confused by this as any newcomer. “But the open meadow isn’t the best napping place, I agree. How’d you come to be on your own?” He asks, curious to hear her reply.
ZEIK