The Seahawks of Brinbling

Previously

…This was not the imposing, regal presence of the Sky-Kings he’d seen soaring high above, nor the sleek, darting hunter of the coastal cliffs. This was a fledgling, its downy feathers still a soft, muted grey, its eyes wide and liquid black, reflecting the nascent light of the sun. He’d named this one ‘Whisper,’ not for any sound it made, but for the quiet way it had appeared, a shy shadow against the vibrant green of the jungle. He’d discovered it a few days ago, separated from its nest, a tiny, trembling ball of vulnerability. Lyra had shown him how to approach, not with the