
He sat there motionless, squinting hard into the topmost branches, while Not Sure If Eagle perched on his shoulder. He occasionally preened his mask feathers as they watched. The hill slope was steep but grassy, and cushy for hours of observation. Being from the swamp and Rise and Co, Pull was used to a certain level of comfort, and his current mood recommended a good resting spot. And so he sat, watching and waiting. He was waiting for the eagles to return to their nest.
Minsuil
Hope this flies! /bricked
