I took to flight with my Eagle sight wondering where the Pride of Lions had gone. After many days of not hearing or seeing them, I became concerned. It is not like the Proud Gryffindor's to go about in a meek manor.
So off I flew, High above the grounds I swept into the mountains north of the keep, snow glistening on the peaks, west to the valley green in spring blossom full and dew still in steam, south to the sea shore to listen for their roar, east on the plains where the grass is grain, there they crouched low and alert. Ears pricked listening to the Ravelry from the three Houses.
Knowing, as their Pride knows, Gryffindor's roar will be heard.
My house will be safe, we can take flight and roost. Badgers, can go to ground and wait. Snakes, have few places to hide but have thick hides.