Alcuin glanced up from the textbook he had been reading as a shadow briefly flickered across the sunbeam on the pages and caught the tail end of the falcon's flight in his peripheral vision. He knew from experience that many would have merely dismissed it as a stubbornly wayward animal, but that was no ordinary bird. Ordinary birds didn't transform into lissome young men at the drop of a hat, for one thing. One needn't a veterinary textbook for that, at least. “Hermes...” His smile was drawn thin and wan. “I was quite unable to do, or say much of anything, I'm afraid.”
“Acute stress disorder, they said. Written in neat little block letters on my chart, no less,” he chuckled breathily, dismissive of the weight of his own words. “You would have been well impressed. It took the authorities several weeks to decide I had naught to do with it...” Alcuin trailed off, momentarily lost for words, and then smiled with a genuine measure of fondness. “And now I am here. It is good to see you again, Hermes.”