“Oh… Terribly sorry didn’t see you there.” An aged voice cracked. Handy’s left hand reached over and rested on the head of his hammer as his other clutched his helmet. Standing where he had just been was a hawk headed griffon, feathers a soft brown fading to white. Her entire body was covered by a tattered, black shawl. Her red, blood shot eyes studied Handy as he stood there. He looked down at her raised claw, which clutched a small bag. The griffon smiled at the human, her grey beak was cracked in places. “You’re just in time for dinner.” She said as she walked towards the pot in the centre of the room.