The Gale Eagle

The Gale Eagle, the False Wyvern

Temperament

The gale eagle is born on the most exposed cliffs, where it learns to fly through gusts that would flatten a man to the ground. In a dive, its flight feathers, coated in a waxy secretion, begin to vibrate and give out the cry of a hunting wyvern, which scatters herds. Raised from the egg, it bonds with a single master and always returns to that one fist. On calm days, it sulks, puffed up on its perch. It is in the storm that it gives its best, at the very moment you are at your worst.

Handling it

It needs a thick glove, a hood for traveling, and wind, often. Never loose it above your own camp: its cry panics your horses as much as anyone else’s. Get your mounts used to the shriek, or every hunt will cost you a day spent catching them.

Rewards

Raw meat satisfies it. Prey it has taken itself delights it. So it must be let out to hunt, often and far. It comes home at dusk, blood on its talons. It lands without a sound.

At the table

In a high wind, when no scout can stand on the ridge, it holds its place above it, and its sudden changes of course betray what moves below. Loosed over a mounted troop, its dive throws the horses against one another and breaks a charge before it begins. And when the wind finally drops, it stays perched on your fist, feathers puffed, eyes fixed on the sky, waiting for the storm to return.