Wolfhound had, for nearly an hour, tried to sit on Orion's throne. This was mostly Furud's doing; he wanted to SIT on the CHAIR, even though the other heads had (with dwindling patience) tried repeatedly to explain that their body was not designed for it. They were quadrupedal. They had a very long tail on their butt, which they were pretty sure was the part that went on the chair bit. And even if they could sit upright, they had wings.
Furud didn't care, and he'd been promised the day to choose their activities, so eventually the other heads had given up and held conversations amongst themselves while they let him grunt and squirm and fail to sit in the chair.
When they left the throne, it wasn't because Furud had admitted failure. It was because he'd lost interest, his attention drawn by a new challenge: climbing the Tower. This went as well as one might expect; he kept falling off halfway up. The other heads whispered amongst themselves quizzically: they shared control of the body but surely... Furud knew... that they could fly?
He probably just wanted the challenge, they'd reasoned, and now that had brought them here. Furud was currently trying to scale the cliffs, the other heads doing the minimum to help out, still impatiently indulging him as one would while babysitting a particularly rambunctious child.
Wolfhound was not, on the whole, hard to miss. They'd been all over Orion today, and for those who couldn't see their starlit body (either because of the dim lighting, or something else) would surely hear the scrabbling claws on rock, the loud grunts, and the sounds of multiple voices as the others spoke of other things.
...and so forth.
@Aurelle
