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The late afternoon sun was slanting in soft golden rays through the canopy above them as Ancient Oak and Tarkyn made their way down the ridge and into the forest near the home guard’s firesite. Even when the great warhorse’s climb up to the ridge under its double load had made them sway back and forth on his back, the eagle had merely clung tighter and stayed where she was. By the time the sun’s rays had lengthened, Tarkyn’s shoulder was aching badly from the constant weight on it.
The first lookout spotted them and word spread like wildfire that Tarkyn had brought the eagle back with him. As Ancient Oak and he approached the clearing, Tarkyn worked on preparing the young eagle for the sight of people, reassuring her of their good will. But as soon as the woodfolk came in to view, she
