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Your heart leaps and you scrabble against the bark, ripping off flaky slices as you try to claw your way up the tree. If there are harpies here – whatever they are – surely they would have attacked you by now? They must be away and that red glint must be the eggs you are searching for! It must be the nest!

 

This ‘tasks’ lark isn’t so hard after all! You think jubilantly, dropping back to the ground with a hefty ‘thud’. But how to get up there... That’s the question...

 

Stepping back a few paces, you look over your shoulder and flap your wings, testing their strength; they stir up a cloud of dust and you cough, waving the pale feathers gently until the air clears, though it is as dry as ever. The tree is not very tall and the nest is not truly that high up... What else can you do? Swallowing nervously, you beat your wings hard and leap into the air.

 

Your first flaps almost send you careering back to the ground but you heave a great breath and pump the unused muscles harder, ignoring the burn. The hardest part must be getting off the ground, right? With that in mind, you hiss between your tightly clenched teeth, powering upwards. If you can just work out the motion, the pattern of the beats...like playing an instrument, only your wings are your instrument...

 

And then it comes to you. The rough and tumble ascent ceases and evens out, though you are many, many metres above where you had wanted to reach initially; you can’t even guess at the distance, but you know that your target is only a short dive away. You suppose that you need the height anyway in order to not cause more damage than subtle good. Your wings spread wide to the full span and you imagine that you can feel the air caressing every feather. You’re flying!

 

Soaring, you revel in the sensation, forgetting your purpose. Your muscles are no longer strained, but working with the air, taking what little shape it has to use and moulding it to your demands. It is amazing, this feeling of having no limits; you can go anywhere you wish. There is not a mountain too high for you to ascend, landing safely at a roost at the end of the day. Vaguely, you think that maybe your new shape is not so bad if you get to do this, but you quickly snap yourself back to reality, focusing once more



Written by Amethyst Mare on 04 July 2012


To the nest

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