The strap was surprisingly resilient given its roughshod condition, but it proved no match for Wolfram's strength. When its full weight rested in his hand, the small leather satchel was stunningly heavy for its size; whatever lay within must have been of dense construction. The creature- the gryphon- tensed as he realized for the first time on his journey, and the first time in this form, he was not carrying that terrible burden with him.<br/><br/>“Thank you, but you need not apologize; you have given me my life, after all, Brother Hart.” With a slight flourish of its wing, the gryphon dipped its head to mirror Wolfram's gesture as best as he was able. “My name is...” He paused. “...I have not had cause for a name. In truth, I had not expected things here to go as they did.” A strangely flat growl rumbled from his throat, perhaps approximating a hum of contemplation. “I- He-” He started, stopping himself before continuing. “The man I told you of- The name I wore before. When he was growing up, his father had a hunting bird; he cared for it a great deal, and it had always been loyal. He called it Swiftbeak, for it could break a dove's neck with a single snap. That, I suppose, is as good a name as any.”<br/><br/>Finishing with a nod to Wolfram and the departing Morr, the newly christened Swiftbeak bowed again, this time keeping his chest to the ground. His wings pulled tight to his sides, and he addressed Al without looking at him.<br/><br/>“I suppose if you wrap the leather around my wings and body both, I will be unable to spread them... I confess this feeling of bondage is not one I've yet had; I cannot rightly say I will have no urge to break them. But I will try to keep my spirit still, as are my wings. And may you have the provisions to free these arrows from my body? I wager this hide thick; the pain is not great, but I would rather them removed.”<br/><br/>As calm as his words were, there was an irritable tension to his voice; the wounds held tight around the arrows, letting slip an amount of blood that was not worrisome so much as unpleasant, and the newest guest of the Forbidden Temple stared wistfully at the sky, as if watching a lover be carried away on a carriage.