(this is gonna be kind of a...flashback on Virir Kirinri, when he's three years old and just got kicked out of the Griffins nest. So yes...)
(alce (wingless griffin, with horns))
Virir sat, in what used to be a stained glass window, but was now nothing more than a stone arch broken up by moss and vines. He tilted his head to one side and rubbed the base of a horn on the arch.
Watching a raven fly by with envious eyes, he snorted. "Alone, without wings, and nought but the remains of some huma'an stead to make myself home in." He snorted again, scratching with a back paw at the molting feathers round his neck.
"Not a good day. Not a good day at all..." he mused to himself.