[open]

[not_philistine]

Breezes are rare in the city. Rarer still are winds strong enough to glide on - so when Goliath feels one picking up, he doesn't waste time continuing his walk through the City. He lunges for the nearest building, talons digging into sheer stone, and pulls himself up the wall arm over arm until he's gained enough height to take off. He launches into the rare thermal, spiraling upwards, higher and closer to the domed sky that closes off the City.

As he rises, he lets himself appreciate the calm security of being in the air once more. Gliding may be the one thing that pulls him back to the Sensoriums. He has no interest in resurrecting a world lost - he has lost and returned to a home by sorcery before, and has no incentive to do it again - but it would be wasteful to lose strength in the air for lack of opportunities to exercise his wings.

Secure in the air, gliding slowly downwards, he surveys the City, looking for signs of life in the streets, or buildings that look like Precincts. He doesn't spot any of the latter, but when he sees the former, he swoops downwards, landing far enough away that he believes he will not scare them too soon out of helping him in his quest.

"I am looking for the Precinct. Perhaps you know where it is."