“Trying to follow a bird in flight is a stupid idea,” Seth noted, but ultimately tugged the collar of his cloak closer to his neck and pulled down his face mask – made up of the silvery, if tarnished steel plates of a Skarmory. Belle, who had moved over to nuzzle Aleida's upside-down face in something that appeared to be sympathy (as both the Pidgeot and her human had been caught in many such traps herself in the early days of surviving in the wild), returned swiftly to his side, bowing low to allow him to throw himself on.

Holding loosely onto the leather straps wrapped around Belle's midsection, he turned briefly towards Sebastian. “I'll see what I can do to track it. Find a good location for a... lair.” With amber eyes set on the sky where only the faint black dot remained in the distance – too far to determine the species – he squeezed Belle's neck. She let out a trill before taking off in an extravagant spiral, climbing high into the clouds above the orange canopy. 
 
Seth's fingers nearly slipped from the leather with the fancy movement, but the tight grip he held with his knees locked him in place. Once they had evened out to a steady, if not the fastest pace, he leaned in to hiss into Belle's feathered head, the rushing wind blocking out most of his voice. “What was *that* for?”

A loud, remorseless caw sounded in response, and Seth likened it to the tone his own mother's voice took when she had invited the boys from the village over to play in Featherheart Tower of her own accord, showing them the extravagant glory of a rare chick being hatched. *You need some friends, Seth! So I'll make them for you!* she had told him earlier.

He couldn't really complain, either. Daredevil moves were a favourite of his.

He huffed in response, eyes scanning the treeline for what he perceived to be the best possible nesting location for a bird that kidnapped children, ruffling Belle's feathers absently as he did so. A tree – a large, massive tree – was not something common to the forest, but it was the only natural location he could think of, the only one large enough for the beauty the villagers were describing. Belle dipped suddenly, dropping into dive, at an old tree whose leaves were already dying and branches dry, in no fit state to support a nest.

Only a few seconds later Seth saw what Belle's instincts could; the outcropping of a rocky hillside underneath the vibrant leaves. “Brilliant,” he said. “Good job. As always.” If a Pidgeot could look smug...

Slowly, she lowered herself, talons wrapping around a thick branch as Seth lowered himself to get a closer look at the small, dank opening both he and Belle had seen from above. A suspicious absence of rock-type Pokemon confirmed his suspicions, even if birds did not tend to like caves. Taking a few cautious steps into the opening and finding the floor lined with unmistakable waste – feathers and droppings – he nodded to Belle to return to the others and she took off. He wasn't selfish with glory.

Both his mother and Belle seemed to believe he needed to make friends.

Hopefully they wouldn't take long to get there.