Somewhere along one of the many beaches on the Isle of Storms, the soft shadow of an overhead bird drifted along the grey sands. The early morning fog dulled the rays of sun, leaving the shadow soft and small as if passed over washed up bits of wood and large rocks. The bird the shadow belonged to soared just above the layer of fog, drifting lazily in the crisp morning air. Clearly in no hurry, the bird drifted lazily above the cold beach, slowly winding down closer to the fog. He would continue his patrol of the beaches until something caught his eye. Another shape, birdlike, on the sands below. He could just see through the layers of wisping fog, enough to make out the shape of a smaller Peregrine Falcon.
She appeared to be unconscious, the bird noted, spiraling closer. As he set down a few feet from the falcon, the older bird tilted his head in wonder, unsure of how she had arrived. He paced closer to her, his grey and black feathers holding some of the morning dew. He paused just before he approached the falcon, adjusting the solid steel mask that covered his face. The bird finally stepped over to the falcon after another pause to compose himself, walking past her and turning. He glanced around in all directions, looking for a clue as to how she came to be.
Another one... this is no coincidence...
The masked bird placed a talon softly on the falcon's neck, making sure she was still alive. He removed his talon after a moment with a quick flinching movement, seeing her begin to stir.