Orha watched him struggle with the fabric for a moment, then turned and left the chamber - and then the building. His raven still circled overhead. Casting a glance up at the shadow, he signaled it - and the bird dropped out of the sky, diving straight toward his outstretched arm. With an abrupt backwing and a gust of wind, the familiar landed and this time talons were marginally padded by folds of cloth.
Remarkably, the material withstood the rough treatment and did not tear, though he could feel the pressure of the raven's claws through the fabric. Propping is stick in the crook of his left arm, the Yason freed his right to stroke the bird's throat in an absent, but affectionate, gesture.
Paying no further mind to the human - Albel - he considered which street to take from there.