She was content to listen to him as they left the pastures and headed into Sanctuary proper heading through the courtyard towards what was essentially no man’s land. Oh, the others could come and go from the mews, but with Raiha bunking in there, if you weren’t looking for her, you were best avoiding it. There simply wasn’t anything stashed in there that couldn’t be found in Kavala’s medicinal storage. Granted, Kavala brought Tasival there often for her to babysit, or Raiha picked him up, but today, he was with his mother. She might go and see him later. But on the whole, it was generally avoided by the others. Especially since Raiha had a habit of leaving Uzima outside of her flight, and that goshawk didn’t like anyone. Chuki she usually contained, because he was even worse. It was up these steps that she led him now, into the mews that she and Kavala had built. Diallo and the older pups raced ahead, and a series of loud, unimpressed honks could be heard from above them.
At any rate, he certainly traveled more than she did. Granted, from Mura to Riverfall was a big enough journey, and she made it once. Sama’el spent his lifetime moving. It was in his heart and soul, she was sure, that he kept moving. Maybe it was because his roots were in a pot, and that pot could be moved wherever he wanted to go. She was more inclined to sink her roots into the ground and stay put for a lot longer. “Maybe one of these days. I haven’t seen it before, but I think it would be good to visit.” She wasn’t sure how well she would fit in with them. Not at all, she suspected, but still. It would be a good experience, just to see something new... and learn more secrets. Perhaps she could pick up something on Webbing, learn by watching. She would find out more one day. But her roots were firmly entrenched right now - she certainly wasn’t taking a whole flock of raptors with her to do so. She led the way up the stairs, and through the open door. He heard the mixed calls of raptors, and a shrill chorus of “killykillykilly” that came from more than just one bird. More than two. It came from a host of them from one of the flights at the far end. Three flights held different birds in different states of disrepair. Two more opposite held Uzima at the furthest end and another goshawk in the one beside it. On the whole, the mews were businesslike.
“And she did, not long after you left,” Raiha grinned. “Why do you think I said I had something for you? This is where the magic happens.” She didn’t mean it literally, but to her, birds had a magic of their own. This was the magic of nature, a magic that went beyond Morphing, Reimancy, Auristics, beyond all of those arcane arts. She led him down the row of flights. It was clean, sparse, and wooden. Everything was in its place, where it should be, and put away. Raiha ran a tight ship up there, it seemed. At the end of the hall, he could see the bed, a table and chairs, a chest, and some shelves with a few books, bottles and bundles, herbs hanging from the ceiling in various stages of aridity, and a few perches near the bed. The source of the honking was revealed as Diallo glowered at the four half-grown pups who were gnawing on driftwood or playing tug with rope, because three fat, snow-white geese, who had been piled into a box in a corner, were now standing in it, honking their fool heads off and flapping their wings at the dogs. The white deerstalker was nonplussed. The pups had taken to ignoring them. The geese had eventually started to settle when the dogs went over to the other side of the bedroom. They radiated their disapproval, however.
Menagerie indeed.
“Uzima you know,” she pointed out the hen, who was sitting on her perch and looking quite unimpressed at the shenanigans going on outside of her flight. “This is Chuki,” she indicated the other goshawk, nearly the same size as the goshawk hen in the flight next to his. Like Uzima, he seemed to be glowering. Though it could have been disinterest - it was hard to know. The Akontak really did collect grouchy birds, didn’t she? “He gave me this one,” she ran her fingers down the impressively parallel scars that ran from shoulder to elbow. “But in here...” she stopped at the flight opposite Uzima’s, which had a nestbox perched at chest height. “Wait here,” she warned him before opening the flight and stepping in, closing the door behind her to open the lid on the very natural-looking nestbox that had been made out of a hollowed-out chunk of log. Huh. It sealed well enough that you couldn’t even see the way it opened from the aisle. The shrill killykillykillies came even louder, as Raiha pulled on her gloves and reached in with her hands, clucking her tongue and making a quiet, but fast chittering sound.
From the nestbox rocketed one small raptor, mostly reddish brown, striped, with longer wings and a tail, followed by a slightly smaller raptor. This one was coloured far more brilliantly - it had plenty of blue on its head and sides, with a much brighter chest. It stood out. The more colourful one perched on the edge of the nestbox, while the red-brown one latched onto the fat, carved sticks that were jammed through the thick bun of white hair at the base of her neck, chittering in unison with Raiha. She sucked in a breath and turned back to him, then, holding two even smaller raptors. Both were slightly more fluffy than the larger ones, but they did resemble them. “This pretty boy on the nestbox,” Raiha began as she returned towards the doorway, “is Oanu. I found him at the beginning of the summer in the long grass. He’d gotten hit by something, lost his tail feathers and was having problems flying... bit of a concussion, too. So I took him in, and he and Kefi bonded. This one,” she turned her head so that he could get a good look, “is Kefi. She is my first hawk. These are two of their five chicks. There’s three more in the nest box, but these are the two I wanted you to pick from.”
She was close to the door now, displaying them for him to look at while three more chicks, another two girls and a boy, poked their beaks out, joining their father on the edge, chittering away at their clutchmates and the falconer. “This one is the boy, and this one is the girl. Given a choice, I would go with the girl. They’re bigger, more assertive... and they’ll blend in a lot better. Off, Kefi,” she shook her head a bit, and the bird shrilled out in protest, staying put until she worked the male chick into the same hand as his sister and reached to dislodge the kestrel from her hair, setting her on yet another perch before easing out of the flight, holding the bright-eyed, curious chicks out towards the young Drykas man. “He’s prone to nipping,” Raiha warned, grinning as Kefi started up her killykillykilly calls once again.