Who: Chrysos, anyone
When: Day 89, early evening
Where: Outside HQ
What: He'd fly through the air with the greatest of ease, the daring young man on the flying---

[ so anyone observant passing by parts of the third floor windows or lower today, or possibly just romping around in the foliage outside the building, might see or hear a few things. A blur of movement swooshing through the leaves. Light, periodic thunks and scrapes of something against wood. Heavier thumps against branches, swaying them a fraction, the scrape of heels against a wall or two. The creak of a rope.

The odd muttered curse. ]

--detach, won't you, lightdamned son of a--

[ Or yelp of surprise, followed by crash crash thunkWHUMP. ]