Spotted a campfire
Whoosh! Zhoom! Faster and faster until the ground appeared before him and all was green and brown and blue, save this time with a speck of orange and a trailing smoke from somewhere to the far left. Daniel couldn’t see anything resembling a city but he did spot a road a bit to the right, looping around a large mountainous hill. He straitens his wings out to drift back into that sam- …
PAIN!
His wings felt like they’d been punched, some of the feathers torn clean off and his body left tumbling backwards. The ground was above him one moment and his paws were reaching for the clouds, only for it to flip back around. He folds his wings mostly out of reflex and allows himself to fall, twisting his hips to orient those catlike feet toward the ground. Such a very long drop.
He opens his wings again, slower, more controlled, and can feel the horrendous force of that wind pulling him away. Open an umbrella in a hurricane and watch what happens, now imagine that umbrella is both of your arms. It did not feel at all pleasant on the shoulders, and worse he didn’t even slow his fall all that much, just a sudden jolt from improper flying.
No, he had to ease into this. The wings opened more, his body angles slightly forward in the high speed. It was quite literally catching wind and letting it buffet against his belly and face and all over those wings to slow his descent. And more to the point to aim his downward speed into forward movement. Taking it gently this was a strain on his muscles. Taking it gently he could manage to swoop back into a looping flight. He’d lost about half his height by the time he was level, while he still retained most of his speed from that swoop. He’d overtaken the flames and smoke, but it was a simple matter to tilt his left wing down and his right wing up, turning his nose toward the bright and black so noticeable amongst all the green and brown.
When he was closer he could smell it. Meat and barbeque, he could smell marshmallows and chocolate. A swoosh over the smoke with the scents growing stronger, his wings distorting the black ash filled clouds as easily as they swiped away the white misty ones. He could see tents, he could see people. Was that two? No wait, three people, but two tents. A campfire in the center with rocks piled around burning wood. They were sitting down with sticks in their hands, blackened on the ends and silvery along the handles, with tiny chunks of something jutting out into the flames. White in one. Marshmallows? Brown in another, that had to explain the meat smell.
And by the time Daniel had taken all of this in he had overtaken the campsite once more. Zipping overhead he’s forced into another long turn to come looping back around. He could feel his tongue was wet and his stomach pained. A dull longing that the smells of breakfast seemed to emphasize. It wasn’t even noon yet, was it? Hard to tell without a phone or a watch, the sun wasn’t very high even if it wasn’t quite morning anymore. The last time he’d eaten was at home, as a human. And now here he’d been exercising muscles he did not know he had for the better part of two hours. He’d need to use them again as soon as it came time to take to the skies and fly off.
He’d lost so much height and very desperately wanted to touch down and rest before he had to climb once more. Swimming through the air for so long is tiring enough, swimming upward against a current did not come easy.
A tilt and a swerve, when he’s coming back towards the camp this time he’s only just above the trees, and coming in much slower than before. Far too fast to land, but he was quickly killing speed from his dive. This time he focuses on the people. Three in total, two by the fire and one now fiddling amongst a backpack for something. The scents of food, fresh and sugary, wafted high into his senses.
Two men and one woman. The first boy had a rugged face, a square jaw that almost made him look like something from a western film. His eyes squinted and harsh, the hair cropped trim and square in a military cut, and the fur along his face and chin scraggly and blackened. His clothing was loose but thick, long jeans and a brown leather jacket. If he had a fedora and a cigar he might have passed as detective cliché, though as it stands the smores in his hands and the white stains on his lips and hands ruined any cinematic appeal. He was looking down into the flames and did not appear to notice the flying beast overhead.
The second one by the campfire was close to the opposite. Slim, tight fitting clothing with bright colors and blue grey patterns, wearing form fitting leggings with numerous pockets. A pack around his waist and a phone in his hand. The second man’s face was rounded and clean shaven, eyes wide with wonder and staring up with awe. No, was that fear? He was looking directly at Daniel. He was pointing the phone up, looking through the screen while the opposite end aimed like a camera.
The woman off to the side combing through stacks of assorted bags and pulling random things out was short haired, thin yet muscular, with hardly anything to show along her chest. She was donned in only tight shorts and a muscle shirt, no apparently shoes at first glance. Her arms smooth and freckled, her hair a deep brow, and her skin almost pink.
All three of them appeared to be adults, and more to the point they seemed to have a large amount of food packed.
The glide continued, Daniel having to turn his head and look behind to watch the scenes beneath. Once again he’s overtaken the camp completely and has to spiral back around, taking a long and looping turn. There was a very serious choice here, muscle his way through the skies and try to get back home as quickly as possible. Or stop here, try his forced and contrived riddles against yet more people, and possibly ask for a bit to eat.
Written by Arbon on 22 July 2016