Chapter Four

Falcons have amazing sight. Gyrfalcons even better than most other subspecies.

It was simply fact. Some people said falcons’ reactions were so perfect, so on point, it was almost as if the beasts were precognizant.

Not one to brag, but Hank sometimes wondered if he had that gift as well. Especially when he wore his feathers.

Larger than his wild Gyrfalcon cousins when he wore his feathers, Hank was a veritable speed demon. Hunting in his raptor’s skin gave him a high he’d never felt anywhere else.

Pun intended.

It was part of the reason he loved fast cars. He’d tried planes in his youth, but they were simply too constricting. Hank needed to feel the wind when he moved. As a Falcon whose wingspan was over nine feet of pure feathered muscle, he preferred to be the one in charge of his dips and dives when it came to air travel.

Driving gave him the same elusive rush he felt when he was in his Shifter skin. The debate was still on. Fast reflexes or precognition.