6th of Fall, 516AV
Niccolo's head twitched suddenly, flicking sharply to the left. His eyes seemed to focus on nothing yet everything, staring with an empty ferocity that only falcons could achieve just perfectly. His long wings beat once before he landed, dropping the slate-grey bryda a bit before landing.
He moved back over to it with clicking hops, his beak poking at it once or twice before he looked back up. He was currently in the hallway on his way to.... Well, nowhere, really. He was just flying around, trying to find some thing or other to quell the raging boredom that pierced his soul's heart and bled him a slow, painful death....
The reason he'd stopped because he'd heard something.... He wasn't even sure, but it was something not very natural. Granted, it wasn't his hearing that his animal kin were most known for, but it wasn't really something you'd hear terribly often. Like the click of a hawk or the screech of a hawk in this winding, windy, wonderland known as Wind Reach.
He pecked at his bryda once more before taking to the wing, flapping powerfully twice and then swooping back down to clutch the bryda in his sharp talons. Hopefully he hadn't torn it...
Niccolo screeched in mild annoyance as he heard the sound again, this time even louder. It was driving the flying creature raving MAD. Mainly because he didn't know what the sound was, but because it seemed so familiar yet not. He circled in place for nearly a chime before swiftly taking off in the direction once he heard it again.
Flying with a purpose, bryda flapping under him, he moved as if he were hunting some poor creature.... Which, he sort of was, to be truthful.
