4th Century, Applea. Springtime.

Stretching his wings out and feeling the breeze through his feathers has always been Soren’s favorite thing. The freedom of flight was something he was grateful to be able to experience.

Today the sun shines bright and warm, glinting off of his silver jewlery and his soft brown feathers. He tilts downwards and tucks his wings in to plummet towards the forest in which his nest home resides in the trees.

He perches on a branch outside of his nest, closing his eyes to listen to the forest sounds. Animals, crickets, the flowing river nearby. It’s his home, has been since he hatched.

Then, he picks up on the sound of something unfamiliar. The sound of panicked yelping, far off in the woods. Scared, but soft, coming from nearby the river. Curious, Soren hops over tree to tree, hiding behind the branches as he looks down to see a newcomer, foot trapped by a hunter's snare.

“Hm…?”