Firenze/ Buckbeak
Buckbeak had liked the Dog-man, but he never visited the new place. The Hippogriff was restless here, and homesick; the smell of the Forest, his home, tortured him with its inaccessability.
His hooves clattered emptily on stone floors.
Then the Horse-man came, bowing to Buckbeak, which the Hippogriff had believed his kind too proud to do. He brought treats, and spoke in a gentle voice, telling stories that weren't understood. He seemed sad, those times, softly stroking Buckbeaks' flank.
He smelled like the forest. Smelled like home.
Buckbeak had never known Lonely before the Horse-man went away.
His hooves clattered emptily on stone floors.
Then the Horse-man came, bowing to Buckbeak, which the Hippogriff had believed his kind too proud to do. He brought treats, and spoke in a gentle voice, telling stories that weren't understood. He seemed sad, those times, softly stroking Buckbeaks' flank.
He smelled like the forest. Smelled like home.
Buckbeak had never known Lonely before the Horse-man went away.