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A hint of gold marks the undersides of this spindly bronze's wings, visible when he holds them just so, then gone again like well-hidden pirate plunder. His talons are a treasure, too: elongated and wickedly sharp, honed and hued like ancient ivory. Otherwise, though, he's dark; the semblance of sea salt encrusts the burnished patina of his hide, its deep, rusty hues drawn down between the jagged breakers of his neckridges, emphasising youthful scrawniness. There's a keenness to his narrow-set gaze, and determination in the blunt line of his chin; though he may never be powerful in body, the hardy expanse of those water-dappled wings promises eventual agility in flight.