The pitiless sun beat down fiercely, its wicked heat unblinking, and the sky enabled it by contributing not even a single wisp of cloud to diminish the harsh rays. Though the Mors Desert was uncomfortably warm more often than not, today's dry heat in mid-winter was unusual. Most equine would take shelter from the unrelenting atmosphere, though a certain few would not- patrollers, wanderers, idiots.

Should those that traveled the desert in these hours be wise enough to not just watch their flanks, but the heaven above their backs as well, they'd notice an airborne figure tens of feet above their spines. The heat has made hunting rather difficult for the fauna of Solterra, forcing predators to search for prey with unrelenting determination. This figure, distinctly long-necked and gold-bellied, was no exception, driven by hunger and the carnal desire to shred through flesh and bone, it would never stop until satiated. From the ground, one may not be able to discern the well-developed, talon-bearing foot this particular beast had been graced with, nor the sharp teeth brimming its blue beak that thirsted for muscle and blood, but those knowledgeable enough would be able to guess that this was none other than a Teryr- one of the most feared creatures in Solterra.

This Teryr flew like a kite with invisible strings on this day, its eyes trained steadfast on the desert ground below. With each stroke of its bulky wings, the Teryr grew nearer and nearer. Unsatisfied, famished, and remarkably greedy, the Teryr diligently sought out its next meal. Perhaps ere its prime, the Teryr stood a few feet shorter than its elders, but this by no means made it less ferocious (perhaps only more arrogant). With the slightest tilt of its massive wings, the Teryr gradually begins to circle over a broad expanse of the desert, searching for its next meal with what seemed to be unending perseverance. When the eyes of this predator note a flash of crimson in the distance, the bird-like creature knows it is about to handsomely dine. 

Let's play, it seemed to screech as it approached as quickly as it could. The plumage on its neck ruffled with excitement as the splotch of red defined itself as a great stallion and a falcon companion.

Something spoke to Senna and Nestor at this moment; something undeniable and definite. It whispered to the pair in a language they somehow both understood well but could never repeat, beckoning them to disregard the blistering heat and prepare themselves because they would be facing an opponent much greater than most had. The voice knew well what lay in the pair's very near future. The Mors Desert had confidence in Senna and Nestor on this fateful day as it watched with bated breath, the sky so still and the sun so strong that everything almost began to bake.

Without a second thought, the Teryr attempted to repeatedly dive for the stallion and falcon, only a singular caw to indicate the commencement of the onslaught.

A story straight from @Senna's past, while walking through the Mors the stallion and his bonded happen across a young Teryr. It appears to be in a particularly aggressive mood, for soon after spotting them it aims its talons directly towards the pair.

But the desert seems to favor them; perhaps the dunes really can sing, for something tells Senna to look up, tells him it is time to defend himself.

Will it be too late?

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This quest was written by the lovely @kealie.

Enjoy!