Step after step they climbed, Peri and Katya the servant girl, the latter with sure, lightfooted steps while the former thumped along after her at what felt like a snail pace. Peri’s arms hung heavily at her side, her legs feeling leaden and uncooperative as she forced herself along. She wasn’t sure if this sudden exhaustion could be equated to the fight with Zarena, the excessive use of power she used in the underground testing chamber, or if it was because of the hollowed out feeling of finality that came from the Grand Predictors decision. There would be no Storm Warden title, no Peregrine of Storms. The highest placement she could hope for was Peregrine of Wind and even that came with its own glass ceilings. She could aim to be a teacher here like Tamour was after her tours of service were over but where was the sense of accomplishment in that when she knew in her soul she could be more. More than what people assumed her name and birthplace granted her.
Be grateful for what you have, said a voice that sounded suspiciously like her own mother whispered in her head. But that was said when she was jealous of another girl's new slippers when she was 5 and while she had just entered her 20th year, the seething resentment felt just as justifiable now as it had then except this time her mother wasn’t here to temper it with promises of homemade biscuits with sweet milk.
What would her mother think of her now though? Her carefully embroidered tunic was more ash colored than blue, her gold sash and ties scorched from electricity. She had lost her hat at some point, hopefully Tuya had found it and collected it for her, and her previously well shined boots were now muddied with snow slush and street grime. This was not the heroic entrance to the Academy Peri had been hoping for, nor the outcome she had been dreaming of when she first became determined to be a Storm Warden. Should she even tell her parents what had happened? She shuddered to think of what the response would be if she sent Tsas on with a letter filled with as many dreary events as had happened to her that day. Maybe if she just tucked the tunic, the boots and the ache in her heart away for another day she could regroup and find a new way to deal with what had happened.
Katya scampered ahead. Up they climbed to the third floor of the castle’s interior halls where the dormitory rooms were. One or two doors were thrown open where students who had either already had their placement test or were of noble blood and exempt from such things went about unpacking their belongings. More voices could be heard behind other doors, laughter and excited chatter that felt like it was mocking her with every bright burst of sound. They turned another corner, passing even more identical doors until finally Katya stopped at one. She pushed open the door before turning her bright-eyed gaze toward Peri, her small hands twisting at the twin rough-hewn bracers that she wore on her wrists. Peri’s sluggish brain wondered if this was a part of the servant uniform, remembering having seen the other escorting servants wearing something similar.
“Dinner is at 6 bells. Please remember your die-e-tary restrictions,” the little girl said in a voice that was full of over enunciation as she repeated what was sure to be a memorized script. Peri couldn’t help but give her a tired smile as she trudged into what was to be her new room.
“Thank you Katya-düü,” she told the little girl whose face lit up at her despite the fact that she probably didn’t understand the southern honorific. “I’ll remember to let the kitchen know I can only have biscuits and sweet milk.”
Katya’s smile grew impossibly wider, revealing a missing tooth and a dimple on her left cheek. She gave an over enthusiastic bow before skipping back the way they came, possibly to escort another new Novice to wherever they needed to go. Peri let out a long belabored sigh, hoping that the others would be kind to the girl who no doubt was having her first day's work, much as she had when she turned 10. When Katya disappeared back around the winding corridor, Peri dragged her stone weighed feet over the threshold so she could force the room door shut, blocking out the cheery sound of other Novices cheering their good fortune so she could wallow in her own disappointment.
The room was spartan, with only enough room for a cot with her trunk shoved under it, a small desk with a stool and a window that looked out over what looked to be another stone building with simple upper dormer windows and a flat roof. From what Peri could make out, there seemed to be a strange kind of obstacle course set up across it with vats of water, leveled platforms and other impediments. Not the greatest view to be greeted with every morning. Maybe people with a title got to choose what they saw out their miniscule windows. Maybe they even had two.
Sitting on top of the cot with its thin pillow and blanket was a set of brown clothing - the uniform of a Storm Warden Academy Novice. She hesitantly lifted up the heavy over tunic, the leather still stiff from disuse but padded and warm for the harsh weather outside. It had rigid ties and buttons, a high collar and would fall to about mid thigh when she wore it over the off white thermals they’d provided. The boots were also stiff, the leather unbroken and the wraps to secure them rolled up neatly inside, sitting up like soldiers beside her uniform. Stitched onto the left breast was a single feather, the sign of an Academy Novice. When she turned it over, the Storm Warden’s seal was stitched across the back. She was meant to wear this with pride when at the moment all she felt like doing was shoving it to the bottom of her trunk to wrinkle and gather dust.
Too drained to call up her previous ire about her situation, Peri opted to simply collapse onto the stiff cot mattress, groaning against the scratchy feeling of it pressed into her face. She missed her palette back home already with its old quilts, warm straw smell and the comforting rumble of her fathers snores.
The only thing that brought Peri out of her spiral was the indignant squawk of Tsas in her travel crate. In her brief scan of the tiny room, Peri’s eyes had bounced off the crate that was resting at the end of her cot, her belabored brain finally catching up to the irritable sound of feathers flapping in a confined space. The young woman let out a sigh before pushing herself back up to her feet.
“I’m sorry, my fierce warrior,” Peri groaned, half-walking, half-stumbling to where the travel crate waited. She fished out the rest of the dried meat she had brought for the days’ journey, hoping to placate her feathered companion. There was a petulant nip to one of her fingers but Tsas seemed too tired from travelling to try anything more serious. Peri let out a defeated sigh, her breath rattling around in her lungs with the jarring tone of an agitated windchime. Her body was sore, her mind was tired and all she could think of was how much she missed home at that moment. She had been there only that morning, confident in her place in the world and where she was going, but now she was in a city that was too loud, too crowded and felt as though she were a spec of dust caught up in a whirlwind with no hope of control as to where she would eventually be deposited.
There was at least one thing she could do in that moment though. She could make sure that the bird who was as dear to her as any human relative was more comfortable than her master was in that moment. The Rookery at the Academy was said to be one of the most organized and well kept in the entire country outside of the Storm Warden General’s personal barracks. At least that would be something to look forward to.
Ignoring the creak of her joints and the screaming of her muscles, Peri once again shouldered Tsas’ travel crate and left the bolthole she had been given as a room.
She wandered back the way Katya had brought her, her head down as she passed by more filled rooms and excited chatter. She managed to retrace her steps down the hall, through one of the towers and back down another block of rooms that faced a border neighborhood. She got turned around when she entered what she assumed to be the Great Hall, a sprawling room filled with rows of long tables, pillows for reclining and a massive firepit situated at the center. Columns carved with birds rose in flight towards a ceiling made entirely of glass two stories above Peri’s head. Sconces molded to look like feathers held dripping candles instead of the electric bulbs that lit the streets, casting the entire hall in warm hues and flickering light. Servants hustled to and fro, readying the evening meal with the orchestration of an army of industrious ants. They all wore the same bland grey brown clothing and bracers that Katya had, their ages ranging from 10 to what could have been 75 judging by the wrinkled visage of the old man sat on a stool stirring the coals. He seemed like her best bet for getting directions since she wasn’t feeling energetic enough to catch one of the others that slipped too and fro.
“Excuse me, Elder,” Peri asked with the slight incline of her head. The old man jumped some, turning his leather wrinkled face towards the young woman beside him.
“Aye?” The old man croaked, his milky gaze barely registering where Peri’s face actually was.
“I’m looking for the Rookery. I seem to be a bit turned around though,” Peri muttered sheepishly, hoping the heat of the coals covered the embarrassed flush she felt in her cheeks. How many Novices needed directions around the Academy a few hours into their stay?
The old man hummed something under his breath before snapping at one of the little servants that scuttled past, a large bronze bowl in his arms laden with fluffy pieces of flat bread.
“Leave it,” the old man grunted before gesturing to Peri with the end of the poker he held. “To the Rookery with this one, fast as you can.”
The little boy gave a sharp nod, putting the bowl on the nearest table before scampering towards the large door on the farthest side of the Hall. The old man returned to stirring the coals without another look in Peri’s direction, leaving the young woman once again chasing after the dust of another child’s breakneck pace.
From the Great Hall, they ended up in one of the round hallways of the main keep, circling around past two other doors before Peri was led through the third and back out into the gray daylight of the Capital. The young man skirted past lounging men and women in Chaser uniforms where they perched on the edge of a fountain or played a complex game involving different weather forms and a ball. The Chasers eyed Peri with a mix of confusion and annoyance - clearly a Novice was not meant to come through this courtyard on any given day. Keeping her eyes down and clutching tightly to Tsas’ carrier, she rushed after the little servant boy towards another large tower where the unmistakable rustle of feathers and chorus of birdsong could be heard.
Home, her soul called out to it. Everywhere else may have been foreign and strange but this, that sound, was more familiar to her than her own heartbeat was at times. Her aching feet grew lighter as she found her second wind, closing the distance between herself and the large tower in the northwest corner eagerly.
The little boy gestured to the ground floor door with the wave of his hand before scampering back the way he came, eyes down as his fleet footed steps carried him back to the duties Peri had interrupted. Peri merely tightened her grasp on the travel carrier straps, a smile pulling at her face as she threw open the heavy wooden door.
The Rookery was far bigger than the other three corner towers, almost as wide as the castle keep she had taken the Predictors placement test in hours ago. While the Keep had separate floors, the Rookery was an open air, multistoried tower with multiple mews lined against the wall and in the center. It was a lot like the tower her parents kept except for the sheer size of the space and the fact that the birds here were far more exotic.
Green Pheasants with their elegant plumage for the Shimizu Family, Red Crowned Cranes with elegant necks for the Lei Family and the watchful predatory gaze of the Steppe Eagle for the Khan Family. The Saker Falcon, symbol of the South and the Salhi family was the only one Peri’s parents would have ever had the chance to interact with and even then, their breeding was relegated to the personal falconers of the Salhi. Still, to see them amongst the other family’s proud birds did make Peri’s heart stutter for a moment with pride. More birds filled the space with their cries - messenger birds, personal companions and the like scattered amongst the multi-leveled mews. Unlike her parents tower, there were no steps or ladders to gain access between the levels.
Guess it’s up to a Child of the Wind’s skill to take care of these birds, Peri mused to herself, too caught up in the awe of the space to realize she wasn’t the only one in the Rookery anymore.
“What are you doing here?” Peri jumped, startling not only Tsas in her crate but an annoyed looking falcon that had the unfortunate experience of being awoken by the squawking. Her head whipped to the side where a stout looking woman with a stern expression and wearing the same thick hide gloves Peri’s parents always wore in the tower stood glaring at her. Did no one here know how to smile or greet someone warmly?
Peri pressed her lips into a line, straightening some. “I need to board my companion, Mistress Falconer.”
The growly woman’s frown seemed to deepen even more so as she raised an eyebrow in Peri’s direction. “You have the look of a Southerner. Does that make you a Salhi?”
It was Peri’s turn to frown then. “No. My name is Corbingiin Peregrine of Rook.”
The Rook Keeper let out an inelegant snort before moving towards a work station situated on the far side of the tower. She shucked her gloves off before reaching for a mug of something steaming. “No space for you here then.”
“What?” Peri blurt out indignantly. “This is the Rookery!”
“For the Noble Families and the Academy’s messenger birds,” the Rookery Keeper corrected after a long sip from her mug. The warm liquid did little to soften her tongue or her charm as she glared over at Peri, her eyes lined and dark. “Not for Novices without express permission.”
“That’s ridiculous, you expect me to keep my companion caged in my room then?” Peri retorted. She wouldn’t normally mind having Tsas with her, they had been together since she had hatched, but Peri had no idea how often she would be in her room let alone have the necessary tools to keep her entertained and happy. Having one of them in a cage was bad enough, even if it was only made of rules and guidelines instead of bars. Peri wouldn’t let Tsas suffer as well.
“I can and I do,” the Rookery Keeper huffed. “Academy policy. I got enough work dealing with snooty Nobility birds and the Roc’s without having to deal with yours as well.”
“You don’t have to!” Peri retorted fiercely. She couldn’t fight the Predictors, but surely she could make this fellow falconer see some reason. “I can keep up with her care, I just need space and the supplies.”
The Rookery Keeper let out another less than dignified snort, like the kind Elder Davaa always made when he wasn’t fond of Peri’s persistent questions and commentary. “What do you know about bird keeping, little hatchling?”
“My name is Corbingiin Peregrine of Rook,” Peri emphasized. “It may not hold sway here in the Capital but my parents, Ardengiin Corbin of Rook and Robingiin Ava of Turgen are some of the best birders in the South. They’ve raised and trained more messenger birds than you and I can count on both our hands and toes and I’ve spent more time with birds than with people to say I more than know what I’m doing.”
The Rookery Keeper studied Peri for a moment, taking in the angry flush of her cheeks to the determined golden eyed look she had pinned the older woman with. Peri didn’t back down, content to meet her eye for eye until either the Rookery Keeper bent to her will or bodily threw her out and even then, she would not go quietly.
The Rookery Keeper took an irritatingly long draw from her mug before letting out a long breath that sent more than one loose feather skidding across the floor.
“More time with birds than people, huh?” The Keeper echoed with the tilt of her head, a look oddly reminiscent of the birds around them when something particularly interesting caught their gaze. “You certainly squawk like an angry kestrel.”
Peri opened her mouth, more than ready to compare her to something less than appealing than a kestrel, when the Keeper straightened back onto her feet from her leaning position.
“Lucky for you, I’ve actually heard of the Rook and Turgen families in the South,” the woman drawled, waving a calloused hand in Peri’s direction. “Far more amenable than the Salhi falconers but competent in their handling and breeding. What do you have in that crate of yours?”
“Swallow-tailed kite,” Peri grumbled, unsure how to act now that her aggression had been knocked aside so easily. “Her name is Tsas.”
The Rookery Keeper moved with surprising agility despite her stocky appearance, quickly rounding Peri so she could get a good look between the bars of Tsas’ travel crate. “A kite huh? I’ve only ever heard tell of them as messenger birds. Does she have talons on her?”
Peri let out a soft snort at the mildly insulted chirp Tsas let out. “She’s no songbird. She was my eyes in the mountains. Just this morning she clawed a mountain lion without getting a bend in her feathers.”
The Rookery Keeper let out what could have been an impressed hum. “A fierce little warrior then. She must take after her handler in personality.”
Peri huffed, wanting to refute it but knowing it would only go further in proving the older woman's point. “Does that earn her a place then?”
“It earns her a chance,” the Rookery Keeper clarified. “I meant what I said about my workload. I can give her a spot and give you access to what you need but you’ll need to take proper care of her.”
“It’s my pleasure to do so,” Peri said proudly. “You won’t even know she’s here.”
“Something tells me that’s a falsehood not fit for the Great One’s ears,” the Rook Keeper mused before looking around the multiple levels of mews set into the tower wall. With the sharp blast of air, the Rookery Keeper thrust herself into a hover on level with the second row, keeping herself upright with the lazy turn of her hand. Peri couldn’t help but marvel at the easy control she had, hovering without a second thought when all Peri could do was propel herself in nothing more than an exaggerated jump. A Child of the Wind indeed.
The Rookery Keeper took half a turn through the air around the tower before settling back down in front of where Peri still stood gawking. She gestured to an empty perch on the second level on the back curve of the tower. It didn’t escape Peri’s notice that this put Tsas amongst the messenger birds while also being out of sight of whomever came strolling into the Rookery through the main door.
“That’ll be her place,” the older woman chuffed before gesturing to the workbench. “Gloves and tack are over there, plus whatever medicine you might find yourself needing. Anything more specialized you’ll have to get yourself.”
She put a heavy boot down onto what looked like a root cellar door situated just in front of the workbench. “Dried meat is stored out here. If you want to take her out hunting for live game, you have to clear it with me first. Don’t want any pedestrians getting mistaken for mouse meat.”
“I would never let her do that,” Peri frowned, earning her an exaggerated eye roll from the Rookery Keeper.
“Sure you wouldn’t, but does she know that? Get her sorted then get out of my hair, it’s almost dinner.”
Peri gave a curt nod before getting to work, taking Tsas’s carrier off her shoulders as gently as she could. She quickly took out her own set of gloves, putting them on before opening the travel carrier. She retrieved the bell from the travel pouch before tying it around Tsas’s ankle, making sure it was secure so she could move on to unchaining her from her perch. Her feet free, Tsas quickly hopped from her perch onto Peri’s waiting gloved hand, stretching her wings out as wide as she could now that she was no longer confined. Peri gave her hooded head a quick stroke, removing the head covering before rising to her feet, looking up to the spot the Rookery Keeper had pointed to.
Hovering her trunk was an easy enough feat, an inanimate object would bend to her will without fighting against the wind that carried it. Making herself fly like the Rookery Keeper had would be a different feat entirely - one she was anxious to learn.
She let out a sharp whistle to Tsas, pointing to the second level perch. With a graceful flap of her night black wings, the little kite rose through the air, flying obediently to where her master had pointed. When she had settled, Tsas gave Peri a quizzical tilt of her head, her golden eyes staring unwaveringly down at her.
“I’m coming, just give me a moment,” Peri muttered, turning her focus to the buzzing power at her fingers. She called the wind to gather once more under her feet like she had on the mountain side that was both a lifetime and a day away from where she found herself now. With a slight hop, Peri found herself in the air, wobbling as she fought for balance now that her body was no longer commanded by gravity. She awkwardly hovered through the air like a newly come of age fledgeling forced out of the nest and unused to their wings. It took her an embarrassing amount of time to level out in front of Tsas’ perch with far less grace than the Rookery Keeper had performed and even then she only had the use of one hand so the other could keep the wind balancing her midair.
She awkwardly fumbled single-handedly with the little cuff that the perch came with to tether Tsas who had the audacity to let out what could only be described as an amused trill.
“That’s enough out of you,” Peri pouted as she finally got the tether around her birds’ ankle. “Behave yourself, alright? I don’t want to hear the Keeper complaining about the best bird in the Valley of the Wind causing trouble.”
That got her an almost offended hiss before Tsas turned to gulp down water from her waiting bowl greedily. All she needed now was a good meal and maybe Tsas would settle in easily for the rest of the evening.
Peri managed to drop herself back down to the ground with inelegant hops through the air, a fierce flush burning her cheeks as she caught herself before falling onto her face. The Rookery Keeper didn’t bat an eyelash, choosing instead to nurse her mug and look over a stack of paperwork that was stacked on her workstation. Shaking off her embarrassment, Peri moved toward the root cellar, hefting the heavy door open so she could go in search of an adequate meal for her companion. She was in the middle of eyeing a particularly fat looking vole that was stung up with the rest of the dried meal when footsteps echoed overhead, far lighter than the Rookery Keepers heavy boots but no less determined.
“What do you want?” The Rookery Keepers sour tone was muffled but no less abrasive with the floor separating her from Peri. The other set of footsteps came to a halt just over Peri’s head, no doubt stopping right before the open root cellar door.
“I’m here to board my bird,” the low voice stated, not demanding but full of a quiet authority that Peri recognized in men like her father - people who preferred actions over words but still needed to find ways to communicate with them.
“Name?”
“Morosov.”
By the sound of the racket above her, Peri imagined the Rookery Keeper had knocked her mug off her workstation. Peri couldn’t blame her. While she could get away with talking to Peri like she was an insolent Novice still wet behind the ears, the children of Nobility rarely suffered the same treatment. Still, the name brought to mind the great birds of the north that Peri only just then realized was missing from the retinue of noble companions that she had encountered when first entering the Rookery.
Drawn out by her own curiosity, Peri poked her head out from the root cellar, coming face to face with the polished boots and long coat of a blonde headed boy holding an ornate cage before him. At her sudden appearance the boy’s eyes shot down to glare at her, the color of the ice that formed on the streams at home - cold, brittle and pale with no warmth to be seen. His long coat was the shade of a storm cloud and lined with white fur, his blonde curls barely hitting the collar. Unlike Peri, he seemed perfectly at home in the brittle winter of the Capital and if what Elder Davaa told them were true, there was no warmth in his body to be had. The Morozov’s had the sharp northern ice for blood.
The boy glanced back at the Rookery Keeper who was hurriedly moving to an empty perch on the first level, situated right between the Shimizu’s Green Pheasant and the Lei’s Red-Crowned Crane. “Your assistant?”
That had Peri climbing fully out of the root cellar, slamming the hatch closed with a firm kick. She glared at the Morozov boy with a sharp frown.
“I’m a Novice here,” Peri corrected him vehemently.
The boy raised one dark eyebrow, clearly not impressed with Peri’s attitude, before turning his attention to the Rookery Keeper. “I was told my companion would be well cared for here.”
“Better than anywhere else,” The Rookery Keeper asserted, puffing up with pride slightly despite the frown that still tugged at her lips. “Yours isn’t the first Golden Eagle I’ve kept and I doubt it will be the last.”
At the mention of the Morozov’s companion, Peri’s head twisted back to the ornate cage that the boy had to hold steady with both hands. The cage was made of bronze bars that were shined within an inch of their life, the coppery gleam highlighting the beauty of the creature that sat hooded inside of it.
It was a far larger bird than Tsas, sitting almost two feet tall with talons that were as long as Peri’s fingers wrapped around their perch. Its beak was sharp, dark brown feathers folded tightly against its body as its hooded head tilted at every little sound that echoed around the tower. Despite the restlessness of the other birds, the eagle appeared at ease, as if it were assured that even blind, nothing within that tower would be of any consequence or threat to it. With a wingspan anywhere from 6 to 7 feet and a speed of almost 200 miles per hour if Peri’s parents were to be believed, she wasn’t surprised at the confidence that seemed to pour off both the bird and the owner.
Drawn in by its beauty and her own undeniable awe, Peri didn’t stray far from where the Rookery Keeper and the Morozov worked to extricate the eagle from its travel cage so it could rest properly on its new perch. With a spread of its massive wings, it gave a mighty flap, startling the crane and pheasant beside it some before settling back to a neutral position. Peri came within a foot of the perch before the Rookery Keeper gave her arm a strong tug.
“Don’t be so foolish,” the Rookery Keeper hissed. “That bird isn’t the same as your kite and shouldn’t be approached so carelessly.”
Peri wrenched her arm from the Keepers grasp, eyes flashing in irritation. “I told you, I have a lifetime of experience with birds, I’m no idiot. Besides, it’s not like it will care about my lack of breeding like most of you seem to. They only respect confidence and skill.”
The Rookery Keeper opened her mouth, ready with a retort, only to shut her mouth with the click of her teeth when the Morozov boy spoke up again.
“She’s right,” he mused, not taking his eyes off of his bird. “Like the Great One, our companions don’t care about class, only strength. If she wants to try her luck, let her.”
The Rookery Keeper bowed her head some, cheeks flushed from embarrassment at being commanded by someone so much younger than her, but quickly took a hesitant step back. Peri however, only drew closer, eyes locked on the eagles’ hooded head and massive twitching talons.
“His name is Tsar,” the Morozov boy pointed out.
Peri nodded her head before letting out a slight whistle that caused Tsar’s head to turn sightlessly in her direction, his entire body tensed on his perch. The young woman reached into the almost empty pouch of treats she had been carrying all day, approaching the perch from the side with a bit of mouse meat in her gloved hand. Watching for any sign of distress, Peri came close enough to the perch so that she could toss the piece of meat onto the stand situated just before the perch. Alerted by the sound, Tsar hopped onto the stand, claws wrapping around his perceived prey before bending his head to gobble it down in two bites. Satisfied, Tsar once again tilted his head towards where Peri stood making a low whistle sound. There was a moments’ pause before the great bird lowered its head in a slight nod before turning back to his perch. Peri felt a pleased grin pull at her cheeks as the bird let out a pleased sigh, casting her eye defiantly in the Rookery Keepers direction. The older woman let out a mildly irritated huff.
“Definitely more time with birds than people...” the woman hummed under her breath before turning back to her workdesk. Above their heads, Tsas let out an irritated hiss, causing both the Morozov boy and Peri to crane their heads up towards her. She flapped her wings irritably, obviously agitated by the noises Peri had made at another bird. The little kite was nothing if not protective and jealous of her masters’ time and attention.
Peri let out a sharp whistle, the familiar command to rest smoothing Tsas’ feathers for the time being, though not without one final hiss. She was still awaiting the vole Peri had grabbed for her and her master wouldn’t deny her. Hovering unsteadily on her manipulated wind stream, Peri set the dried vole onto Tsas’ stand, giving the kite a quick stroke down her back before settling back down on the ground. To her surprise, the Morozov boy’s gaze hadn’t left where Tsas was eagerly devouring her evening meal.
“Yours?” the boy asked.
“Mine,” Peri huffed back, placing the rest of her gear into Tsas’ empty travel carrier to be taken back to her room.
“She’s very loyal to you.”
“She’s been my responsibility since she hatched. She defends me, I defend her, and together we’ll take on the world,” Peri said confidently, slinging the travel carrier up onto her back. “She’ll take a bite out of any bird here.
Peri ignored the quiet groan the Rookery Keeper let out, head buried in her hands now at her workstation, to stare the Morozov boy in the eye, daring him to question her the way Zarena and everyone else had since she got there. Instead the boy merely inclined his head slightly before turning to the Keeper to discuss Tsar’s eating schedule and habits. Her bird secure and her ego slightly boosted, Peri turned on her heel to head back toward her shoebox of a room to prepare for dinner, the familiar cries of the Rookery fading fast behind her.