The Peregrine

The Peregrine wheeled lazily south, a landscape of shallow hills framed the endless horizon providing minimal reference point in which to situate the smallness of Mile’s perception. From above, the infinite field of clouds took on geographic characteristics, cirruses wisping like barley fields and great, billowing cumulus anchoring the horizon like mountains. “It was nearly impossible,” he thought to himself, “that mankind should be seeing as the falcons do.”