He walked through the deep woods off Northern Washington state, holding his hands out taking in the sun as it passed in the shadows of the tall trees. Quite were the woods today only the little sounds that the winds and the animals made. There were Mountains off in the distance, with snow topped peaks. He could feel the cold sting of the air, that came down from them, against his skin. His mind wandered from tree to tree, reaching out to the birds and creators of the surrounding area. He could hear the timberwolves off in the distance making their presents known.
Hawk wore light armour, covering most of his body. He carried his usual weaponary, twin swords, bow and arrows, several throwing knives, and a large mace. He held only his battle helmet in his hands, showing respect for his former teammate.
A time before Hawk and Morte fought together with passion. They were teammates for a short period of time, but teammates non the less. Yet they fought, but this was not a battle for hatred or for power. This was a battle for respect and competion.
Stopping in a large clearing he sat and waited. His large wings were neatly tucked behind him, narrowing his size. There was a rustle in the trees as the birds all in one had one thought. DANGER Hawk waited........