The isles around the southern coast form a maze of rocky islands and grassy obstacles. From above, the ocean loops in whirling patterns and churning rivers, tossed by strong winds and torn by spikes of enduring stone.

It’s hard to imagine that things live in there. My wings send me soaring high above it, detached from it; the one time the ocean and I met, we did not part of friendly terms. Some creatures may experience a floating sensation but I felt as though I were filled with gravel, being pulled deeper and deeper down beneath the waves. Only by luck did I escape – well, luck and the generosity of a bull seal that dragged me to shore.

That was the last adventure I had into the sea. It’s okay, I have enough room in the sky, I think. I shall just admire it all from up here instead.