“WILL YOU SHUT UP YOU DAMN BIRD! YOU HAVE WINGS, USE THEM!” Handy bellowed. His arm hung over the edge of the ravine, the deadweight of the griffon falling, and Handy’s own, less than ideal position when he gripped the bird’s foreleg forcing him to a prone position as the bird panicked. Timothy looked up at the human, blinking rapidly before looking to his sides and flapping his wings experimentally.