He tilts his head upwards, watching the eagle as it swoops down and exits his view before the tips of the trees. His speed begins to slow as he reaches the end of the forest and comes to the steep cliff, overlooking the island below. The figure out stretches an arm and the eagle lands on it. Eyes were on him now. Stalking him in the darkness, as if they themselves were ready to become the predator and devour their prey.
He walks towards the eyes, cautiously at first but he quickens his pace as he inserts a key into the tattered cage. He whispers under his breath, “May Ronagan guide you,” as several eagles exit the cage and fly off into the sky. In their feet they carry small, rolled up parchments.