Misha's talons clicked a quick rhythm as he bounded up the steps, a custom-made bag looped around his neck. Bran had made it two weeks ago for him and it, after a few alterations, worked perfectly as a shopping bag for fresh veg and other produce, making the loong's daily trips down to the market far easier given that Bran had given up going with him. Life seemed to follow wherever Misha went and the local's crops grew quickly, even in winter, so they were more than happy to give them a few bits of this and that as thanks.
Misha reached the top of the stairs leading up to the observatory then took his customary route up the outside of the building, bounding from the bits of wall that jutted out to provide housing for air-conditioning units and other devices, and paused a moment on the roof before continuing on.
Bran had given up going anywhere. He woke late and slept late and tended to sit in a sort of daze each day.
