Rat kept glaring skyward, squinting his eyes at something in the foggy, winter, roof of the heavens. It happened every day, and often every night. He seemed concerned with the heavy shadows of clouds passing over the ground, and his ears twitched irritably.
"Don't you see that?!" he'd snap. "Don't you -hear- it?!"
But no one seemed to know what he was on about. Some of his housemates secretly wondered if he was going mad... perhaps something of his ordeal in the Wylde had broken something in him. He seemed paranoid, as if some great bird of prey were soaring above.
It came to something of a head when he did not come indoors one particularly cold, cloudless, night. He was found on the roof, bundled in a heavy cloak, covered in snow. Eye pressed to the viewer of a telescope, fixed on a dark shadow in the sky. The odd bit about this shadow is that there was soft, glowing, light coming from it. Not reflecting from it, but as though a candle or lamp were kindled atop a particularly dense cloud.
"It's a ship!" Rat said, shivering, icicles hanging from his whiskers. "A ship that's flying!"
It took a few days for his fingers and toes to get warm again, and a small piece of his ear had frozen so solidly that it flaked off, but even though everyone was sure he was looking at a particularly far-flung hunk of Zefiroth, Rat was sure he had seen a small sailing vessel aloft on the currents of the atmosphere. He was sure it had been making slow, lazy, circles around the area... and what was more, he was absolutely positive that with his large, and particularly keen ears, he had heard the clicking of giant insects.