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At the top of the flight tower, Rakko Ainu stepped out onto the beams of the safety net and deftly walked his way across its length. Stopping with the tips of his hooves just touching the end of the beam, he gazed down on the little city on top of a plateau spread out below him. What a place to be. High in the sky, surrounded by wide, open air and a sea of green, Thunder Bluff was an island like no other. Standing above it all, Rakko felt like an island king surveying his land.

But he wasn’t. And it didn’t matter much. Her Eyes above knew he didn’t want to be a king. He was happy just being what he was.

“I am alive,” he whispered as he spread his arms wide, tilted his head to gaze up at the grey clouds cushioning the slate blue sky above and with a deep breath, drank in the early morning air.

Rakko closed his eyes, the dim light of a pre-dawn disappearing into darkness. In the silence, barely a notion came to him, as if the morning breeze blowing gently around him carried away any thought. And he wasn’t sure how long but he continued to stand like that, his arms spread out and his eyes closed. As time passed he felt the chill of the breeze against his cheeks slowly wave farewell and turn into the warm, caressing greeting of the rising sun of dawn. He opened his eyes to be dazzled by a bright new day. The clouds above now gleamed with the golden glow of An’she’s reach and the sky the bright blew of a vast ocean. He smiled and sighed longingly. The only thing missing was the scent of salt in the air.

“OTTER!”

The call of his translated name tore through his reverie. It was followed by a series of unintelligible, guttural words. Rakko smirked, offering an apologetic roll of his eyes to the clouds, hemoved nothing else but his head to look below him. There, watching him sternly, stood a well armored Bull, the owner of the demanding voice speaking to him in a language he did not yet know. But he did not have to understand Orc to know what his fellow Shu’halo was trying to tell him.

“What’s the matter, Hoka? Afraid you’re going to see something that will make you jealous?” Rakko chided in Taurahe, swinging his hips in a little dance as he tip toed on the edge of the beam, the cloth of his robes dancing around his legs.

There seemed to be a momentary look of panic in his companion’s eyes. But it was quickly replaced by a groan, a derisive snort, and a narrow gaze. Hoka, too, turned to the Mother’s Tongue so that Rakko, or as he called him, Otter, would understand. “Get down from there! It’s time to go.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll be down,” Otter replied and with a wave of his hand, told his friend to be off.

Otter sighed, then thought about it a moment. He looked back up at the clouds, gave them another look of apology and closed his eyes, resuming his enjoyment of this peaceful morning upon this tall and majestic island of calm. He turned his arms so his palms faced the sun. And then his own voice rose up to sing a lilting tune, a blessing of An’she to share with those who would hear him this fine and beautiful morning.

He would take in as much of it as he could before his brother in arms took him back to the chaos of war. It wasn’t like Hoka would come after him anyway. He was afraid of heights.