Hippogriff ran off, he said. Go after it, he said.

What business did the man honestly have chasing after overgrown birds that couldn't decide what they wanted to look like when they grew up? This wasn't his problem. Aside from his jarvey, the man had never professed any large love for creatures. He was the Groundskeeper and the grounds hadn't run away. Technically he was still well within his right to say NO.

Fool he was still for heading this way despite his better knowledge. "Henry?! Ye 'n here boy? Oi! Hippogriff! I don' reckon I've go' all day ter be walkin' around this dark place lookin' fer ye!"

He ran a shaky hand through his perfectly done hair. The man was having a good hair day. Nothing bad every happened on a good hair day. In theory he should be safe...so why didn't that make him feel better?

"Henry?!"