I gathered a few sacks of the special feeding mix for carnivorous animals, and threw it over my shoulder.

Very ironically, the soft and kindly sisters of Fjord actually have more predatory animals than they let on about.

Don’t ask me what they put into that deadly food mix of theirs – if it keeps something like the Hippogriffs sated, then I’ll tow it all the way from Capital to Fjord. On foot.

And that’s saying something.

I passed the corral filled with equine animals, and noticed that the male unicorns were at it again.

They never ceased fighting over the females; we always found them sparring with their only horns, or kicking and biting at each other.

If you’d separate them with a fence, they’d either scale it like the miraculous creatures they are, or resort to brute force and break it down.

What happened more frequently was the latter.

I grunted as I threw open the door to the hatching room, only to find that Sister Lisa had beat me to it and provided food.

One of these days…