"Again?" Hawk demanded, watching the smoke rise. He twisted around to rummage in his bag, extracting a worn road map. "Christ. 'S like the war's followin' me north."
He inspected the map, which showed the Symphony Archipelago splayed across its surface. His own route was scribbled out in red marker, picking out the roads he'd take north across the islands. He'd left Violetta; he'd passed through Homestead and Cayenne, but hadn't hit Port Siena on the northern coast yet. He glanced up.
"So...that must be Marshall." He could see the light of fires flickering on very distant windows; the air over there was bent, almost like a heat wave, but...charged. Thick. He shifted his wings hesitantly. "...That's a lot of magic, over there..."