The sharp rush of wind was no more fun in open air than it was on top of the tower. Ryann tried greedily to keep the frosty air inside of her lungs, but with every bump and pull, the wind dared to rip it back out of her. One of the faults of flying in such weather, she supposed, though there was little she could do about it while she was currently in free flight. All she could manage was to keep her eyes on the dark silhouette of the castle, and give her best attempts at riding out a path there. 

Her dark feathers were currently the only part of her well suited for the cold, and unaffected by the piercing winds. Like an actual sea hawk, Ryann let her wings stretch out as large and as wide as she could, turning them inward just slightly so the wind would fill them. If you were to look at her from the ground, she would probably look like an odd sort of hang-glider, though her wings were much smaller, and her body much less stable. Every now and again, she would hit a bumpier patch of air and get tossed around like a ragged stuffed toy before quickly righting herself again. Her wings would twist and turn behind her, adjusting her flight path slightly whenever needed. 

Before her, the once flurry obscured castle was slowly gaining detail. It looked much more brightly lit against the white landscape and low clinging fire now that she was closer, made of dark stone that matched that of her previous tower perch. Her eyes mostly focused on the halved bridge that she intended to land on, surveying the decaying brick and slick, icy surface for the smartest place to land. The last thing that she needed right now was to break a limb or two because she was distracted. Bone mending on top of fending off the cold would definitely make this adventure less of an adventure. The word floated around in her head for a moment, while she tried to figure out exactly when she began thinking of this event in such a way.

Sure, she was terrified, and rightly so, but that didn’t undermine her natural need for adventure, and in a way, calling it such made it a little less scary in her mind. Yes, she was simply on an adventure, and Roach had simply wandered off on his own again. Those were her thoughts while her wings narrowed slightly, allowing her a quick, but much smoother decent towards the crumbling bridge. The wind bumped and prodded her forward every now and again, but did little to change her now shortening course. 

“Easy does it.” She mumbled with a fumbling sort of grin, and her wings carefully responded by folding in and allowing her feet to finally touch ground again. The wind didn’t subside though, now left to blow against her feathered back with all the anger of an abandoned date. She chose to ignore it, for now, and instead avertted her attention to the next stage of her adventure. 

The castle, now that she had the chance to give it closer attention, looked old and abandoned just as the tower she’d woken up on had looked. Snow clung to it wherever it could, and small piles collected on the open parts of the bridge. There was fire, she notice at the roof and a few places farther off in the distance, that she knew for sure now was not meant to be there. 

Hesitantly, Ryann began to make small steps towards the entrance of the castle. The feeling of fright and anxiety soon returned to her stomach the closer she got, tearing angrily at her insides in much the same manner the wind tore at her outside. It left her feeling sluggish suddenly, like she’d been walking for days and desperately needed a moment to breath. She stopped beside the edge of the bridge and took that moment to properly refill her lungs. The exhaustion could be chalked up to the after effects of adrenaline and nerves, but there was something else mixed in with the waves of anxiety and fright that left her alert—panic? She didn’t know why she would be panicking now, after finally managing to calm herself down. Her eyes grazed the high archway that eventually led inside the castle. It was slightly shadowed, unlike the rest of the bridge, and called forth more panic the further she looked. 

What was inside? Her mind supplied the question with more curiosity than fear, though the slow start of panic still lingered in the pit of her stomach, like hot coals. Maybe if she continued forward, she’d catch fire. The thought made her lips curl lightly; humor could get even the most frightened people moving, at times. Again, she began to pad towards the looming entrance. Another several steps, small and tired, and suddenly she’d stopped again, interrupted by a familiar sound on the wind.

Voices? Her senses seemed to narrow themselves at the possibility, and she strained even her sensitive ears to make out and organize the many sounds the wind carried. There was definitely a voice, she was sure now. Something new bubbled in her stomach, though what to call it, she wasn’t sure. An odd mixture of excitement and caution? With maybe just a smidge of that familiar creeping panic, though, she still credited that one to the castle itself. 

“Hello?” Ryann spouted towards the entrance then, hoping its large structure would carry her wavering voice much better than the tossing winds. “Is anyone there?” she called further, hoping to encourage whoever—or whatever was inside to answer back.