The cry of a falcon is a lonely, dangerous sound. I was hunting for a meal for my beloved when I heard it: a high, sweet cry that tugged at my heart. I followed it far from the path and my quarry to a lone tree high on a ridge. The falcon dove at me, talons raking. There was an explosion of feathers and blood, and I wound up with deep scratches down my arms. The falcon was branded on my back. After that, hunting for my sweetheart was easy and we ate like royalty that night.