From the doorway of his field tent, Rakan sets his logbook down next to his coffee mug. Behind him on the screen glows an unsent draft, and in the shadows stands an empty perch.

"Hey there, how are you holding up? Good news about the bird, and... well, I've got a draft to the sponsor that I've rewritten four times now. Somehow it sounds a lot clearer in my head."

He lets out a quiet chuckle, then pauses so as not to talk over you.

"If you've got a minute, I'd like to read it over with you and get your thoughts. But if you've got things going on tonight, it can wait. Not everything out here has to be an emergency."