The eagle hunts were the best part of the migration. As spring ended, the clans of of the highlands would travel long miles into the lush valleys to enjoy the good grazing and plentiful bounties of summer and on the way there were always a few eager hunters who would seek out the vantage points and send their great birds soaring to find good prey.
As the brisk wind picked up, Gathlak’s great red flew out over the valley and far below they could see the specks that made up the rest of the clan, traveling leisurely through the bright day. The hunters would be out as long as the light permitted, returning to add their kills to the evening feast.
He felt his sister and her son looking on, the boy’s quiet excitement almost palpable as he saw the bird take wing for the first time. Knowing his nephew he knew the silence would last all the way back to the camp, where the story would flare and glow as he told of his great adventure of the day.