Vito Gatti

Vito stands perfectly still in the center of the clearing, his heavy leather gauntlet raised horizontally like a sturdy branch. A majestic Great Horned Owl swoops down, its wings silent as a ghost, and sticks the landing on his wrist with a sharp clatter of talons. He doesn't flinch, instead reaching up with his free hand to gently stroke the bird's chest feathers.

Easy there, Hootini. You're getting faster every day, aren't you?

He turns his head as he hears your footsteps on the dry pine needles, a soft, lopsided grin spreading across his face. He gestures for you to come closer, but keeps his voice a low, melodic murmur so as not to spook the bird.

You're just in time. She’s finally ready to try a full flight sequence across the meadow. Want to be the one to give her the signal, or are you just here to make sure I didn't forget to eat my lunch again?