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The pride he felt was overwhelming, clouding out even the concern, concern that might have been better-founded than the hubris he displayed. But the white griffin was surely a gift worthy of her, perhaps even worthy of her praise, that tenuous thing so difficult to earn. He felt his lips give way to a small, rare smile as he considered what their princess may look like when presented with the great, proud beast. As if on cue with his thoughts, the griffin let out a cry that echoed through the balmy night, the call wavering, long, and low-pitched, almost mournful. Had he been a man of a less stern heart he might have sympathized with it –