Hawk made a gradual turn, one wing lifting while the other lowered. The bird thing, which Numair was guiding with one hand now, mirrored the change.

"Perfect!" Numair called. "It's matching your angle. I can see the gyroscopic head making adjustments as well," he added, because the head of the bird thing was indeed bobbing gently around. "All right--here it goes."

He let go of his light hold on the bird thing, and immediately it drew up and away from him, farther into the sky and against the sun. It settled several feet over their heads, keeping pace with Hawk silently. Numair sat looking up at it and actually relaxed somewhat, his hands now holding lightly onto the leading edge of Hawk's wings.

"Perfect," he said again, quietly.

A sudden strong gust of wind rushed into him then and snapped him out of his reverie--Hawk let out a surprised cry. It subsided quickly enough, but Numair immediately flattened himself down against Hawk's back, gripping the neck of his shirt.

"That's the front comin' on," Hawk said quickly. The first patters of rain were indeed beginning to fall from overhead, where the darker clouds were stealing in. The bird-thing, seemingly unaffected by the sudden gust, continued to soar on above them. "Nothin' to worry about. How's about we head down an' see how the bird handles some rain?"