When the autumn winds blow and the trees and bushes drop their final bounty, the gathering mages take to the skies and spread far and wide in their hunt. It’s a time of cheer and anticipation, with all ordering what will be found, gathered, and stored.

I like to race along below them, keeping pace across great fields and plains. When the blustery winds twist between my dashing limbs, it’s as though I may take off and join them, high in that stretching blue.