Flying towards Marcille is a struggle. The closer he gets, the trickier the winds seem to be, fickle, shifting, always trying to thwart him. Still, he can eventually land next to her unarmed, with some careful steering. Her back is to Chilchuck, and she seems to be gazing off at something beyond this blank space, but she turns towards him at the sound of her name.

"Oh, hi, Chilchuck!"