Scanning the massive being in front of you, your focus identifies the mechanical pterosaur by its local name: “Sunwing”

Craning your head back, you meet its gaze — the canopy of redwood trees now becoming a blur, as your feet shift on the dirt ridden ground, Interrupted on your walk home.

Not that it's unwelcome.

The creature clicked and grumbled, tilting its large head and inspecting you with bewondering curiosity, one reminiscent of an Old World crow.

You always had a fondness for machines of this sort. Possibly a kind of beauty in the way something so intricate can be designed out of a few metal scraps, or something poetic like that.

A shame you're afraid of heights.

“Is this your new plaything you were telling me about?” you ask the woman astride its back, closing your focus.

“I don’t know about my new plaything, but it sure seems to be yours." Aloy fires back, grinning as she looks down at you.