From the blackness, a pair of massive red eyes slowly open, silhouettes of color in the storm of ash. They begin unfocused, but rapidly become more alert, focusing in on the group of dream-travelers and seeming to move in forward, as if closing in for a better look. A screeching sound rises, like a mixture between a roar and the cry of a bird of prey.

Steven goes stiff, staring back at the being with wide eyes, an empathic connection forming that spills over into the others, albeit less powerfully. There is a feeling of the creature's attention and interest - but in the way that a hunter would perceive prey.

"Oh no," Steven says softly, both out of immediate dread and because of what this implies. "I think... the Thunder Bird was right..."