A slower progression then he had wanted, the rooftops felt further apart then they use to be. The wiggling mammet in his sack was not helping things. His balance was good, but it had been better. Since he had returned from the "grave" and been reinstated as leader of the Red Wings. A year since the Royal Ball, the bomb plot, so much had happened. The unit had been so small, but in the last year, with the threats from within, as well as the changing world without, he had been encouraged by Flame Command to expand his team. That expansion came with an administering role for him. He had been sitting behind the desk and it was showing.... "When was the last time I jogged?"
He reached the Goblet with little trouble, the voices in his pearl told him where not to go. He approached Sable Hall, no sign of trouble. Making his way to the stables he lead all the chocobo straight into the Hall, the floors would need cleaning after this for sure. Down into the hanger he spotted Mikh'a and waved, loading the birds into the Falcon as Mikh'a finished moving the papers and materials. The Falcon was strong, but maybe not enough, a lot of weight. Hope was all he could do. Once all was loaded, Montblanc already out of the bag and in the Wheelhouse, doing his flight check as best he could with three of the chocobo in the room with him, spillover from the chocobo compartment. Erik shot a look to Mikh'a, "I need to grab some things. Be ready to launch."
Running to his chamber he grabbed somethings, a few of his treasured books, his priestly robes, a few mementos, and a few things of Clio's he knew she would miss if they were lost. He ran back to the hanger, climbed aboard the launching Falcon, he was focused on the task at hand but mindful of what had happened today. Most likely this run would get him in shape, but regardless, when this was over, he would have to reevaluate himself. It was time to begin the training, no more leadership from the desk.
He reached the Goblet with little trouble, the voices in his pearl told him where not to go. He approached Sable Hall, no sign of trouble. Making his way to the stables he lead all the chocobo straight into the Hall, the floors would need cleaning after this for sure. Down into the hanger he spotted Mikh'a and waved, loading the birds into the Falcon as Mikh'a finished moving the papers and materials. The Falcon was strong, but maybe not enough, a lot of weight. Hope was all he could do. Once all was loaded, Montblanc already out of the bag and in the Wheelhouse, doing his flight check as best he could with three of the chocobo in the room with him, spillover from the chocobo compartment. Erik shot a look to Mikh'a, "I need to grab some things. Be ready to launch."
Running to his chamber he grabbed somethings, a few of his treasured books, his priestly robes, a few mementos, and a few things of Clio's he knew she would miss if they were lost. He ran back to the hanger, climbed aboard the launching Falcon, he was focused on the task at hand but mindful of what had happened today. Most likely this run would get him in shape, but regardless, when this was over, he would have to reevaluate himself. It was time to begin the training, no more leadership from the desk.
![[Image: Emblem%252520by%252520Rhea%252520Zaheela%252520x50.png]](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5YSh8yMniHU/VlLStr_7SSI/AAAAAAAAIQ4/qLoOmtz-Jdg/s100-Ic42/Emblem%252520by%252520Rhea%252520Zaheela%252520x50.png)
