Naught could keep the hobbit grounded - there were things to do, places to scouts, lands to explore. Every inch of his ten hand frame had stayed airborne most of the day, his minuscule body gliding over the wind currents as easily as an eagle might. The wind, the breeze, the distant threat of tempest - it was all at the command and mercy of his impressive wings, which just so happened to be twice the size of his actual body.
The shetland had by now learned a great deal about flying. Back home Over-the-Hill he had hardly ever needed to use his wings, generally taking to plodding up and down the hills on foot. Helovia though was vast; vast and treacherous. Up in the air he was safe, up above he was sound.

His intentions had been to scout the Hidden Falls and learn it's secrets, particularly if the hidden spring truly did exist, though as usual the allure of the Threshold took his flight east and diverted his course.
His cold, big-eyed gaze scoured the canopy, keenly poking his sights between each gap in the roof of the forest for any wanderers who might have just stepped through into their continent.

Not a soul was seen at first glance, rather, until his gaze fell upon Mr. Rikyn. The Lord of the north. Keeling back in the air, Pippin watched the Lord from a distance, right up until a vibrantly coloured gent emerged. His wings folding, buckling and giving a generous beat, Pipp allowed his half-sized bodice to shoot downwards, swooping down past the canopy where he would flare his wings to slow all movement, landing with a gentle thud upon the moist earth below.
"Lord Mr. Rikyn Sir!" Pippin chimed, striding over to the man he had met not long ago at the Throat-Basin conferences. "How goes it?" was the halfling's next bellow, striding towards the warden.
A wary eye turned to the stranger, his own blue eyes finding their way to the gleaminy star-like eyes of the striped man. The stranger's horns were impressive, though quite beastly - not ot mention his hide, which appeared striped much like the Diviner's tiger.
"Hallo!" Pippin hooted regardeless, stepping forth to greet the stranger in the hobbit's way. Reaching with his right hoof, Pippin went to stomp gently upon the striped man's right hoof in greeting (if the man would allow it) and then continued with "I am Pippin! A guardian of the mighty Dragon's Throat!"