Kelyn hurries up the stone steps, shoving the band of her dark glasses over her head as she goes. The cliff grass glows in the first rays of the morning sun, and the air is bracing, still chilly from the night. She scales the steep slope with eager haste, running through the meadow to the place where one shoulder of rock curves over in such a way that it resembles an eagle's beak. A tall dark shape moves within its shadow. "Jory!" And then she stops, staring, at what lies beneath the rock projection. "Oh - oh no!"