Reyson gathered his wings closely about him as he made his way through the hall; beorc buildings always made him feel claustrophobic, no matter how large they were. He had attempted to see if he could dispel some of the miasma earlier, but the air made his throat feel raw and painful, and it hadn't worked very well in any case.

He was not expecting to run into a wyvern. Out of reflex, he backed away, body tensed for flight. Daein's black wyvern riders were a fearsome force, and the speed of their charges was matched only by the ferocity of their axes. Reyson saw no rider here, but that didn't mean they weren't close by.

"Stay back," he warned the creature, though he supposed that if it really wanted a chunk of Heron, he'd have to rely on his luck in order to get away safely.