Summer was a bittersweet blessing to Gemini Stone. Father spent much more time indoors around this time of the year — the sunlight irritated his condition — and as a result, the heir put up with less lectures and had a lot more free time to toy with... for better, or for worse.
Thankfully, today it was for the better. A few weeks ago he'd received an invitation for a hunt, hosting by a noble in Featherfall. Who invited him was inconsequential — in fact, if the name hadn't been inscribed on the card, he would've forgotten it by now. The heir was simply glad for a chance to get out of the House, and a hunt, on a fine summer's day as this, sounded like a better way than any to pass the time.
It was only for occasions like this, really, that Gemini bothered keeping a falcon. Rye, taciturn as it was, seemed to sense the business-like relationship between the two. The falcon could stretch his wings for a bit by attending these functions, and in return, it kept out of Gemini's hair.
At the picnic, the bird, on cue, left the heir's falconer's glove and took to the skies, knowing full well to give his master some space. It seemed as if the picnic had just begun; he had arrived comfortably on time. It would probably be best, before he did anything else, to thank the host of this event for the invitation — if he could remember their name... or recall what they looked like. Gods, his apathy for formalities would one day be the end of him.