Being a wanderer of the wilds himself, John is quite familiar with the sight of Istredd flying overhead by now. He is sat just now with a little picnic of his own on the peak of a grassy hill, just outside one of the many forests of the Velan Republic. Raising a hand to shield his eyes against the sun and watch the flap of his wings against the blue of the sky, John waits for him to draw close enough so that he might hear his voice before he calls out:

“What news does the wind bring?” Gesturing to Istredd’s book of notes.

(He thinks he is being funny.)