After arriving at a tree of a slighty greater height than those adjacent, and located at an angle unlikely to become victim to stray musket fire, Galen made a few attempts at flight in fullform before realizing that midform would probably be the best way to go about actually gripping the branches once he was at a proper altitude. "Getting a little better every day" he thought, as he folded his wings and found a suitable branch capable of carrying his weight. From this location of relative safety, he inspected his gear for damage before noticing that a stray shot, likely from one of the musket's wielded by one of the fighters, had managed to punch a hole in one of his feathers. "Well isn't that something." A laugh followed as he realized how close he had come to being struck, and he continued to watch the battle on the beach unfold.