As Midas started to spread those wings, Wilibald took a couple steps backward - uncertain of what was coming. The words, polite and perfect, distracted him well enough for a moment. “And to you, Midas, son of Tharon.” There was a brief moment where the thought of being alone in this strange place was too frightening to handle but Wilibald quickly got a hold of himself. He had been commanding Midas’ attention for a good part of the day, and he doubtless had other things to look after. And as he said, they would have time to talk later.
The company would be missed, certainly, but perhaps it would be good to wander about on his own. Without someone else with him, he wouldn’t feel so bad about hurrying into a hiding spot if he crossed paths with anyone.
First thing he needed to do was scout out a good spot to take a nap and, hopefully, a close spot where a good meal could be had. All this talking and walking and learning certainly helped work up quite the appetite.
Now, back to the matter of how Midas chose to exit. Maybe Wilibald should have seen this coming, maybe he should have thought that, like birds, Midas was capable of flight. But those wings hadn’t seemed big enough to actually support all the weight and he had just hoped they were there for decoration.
So the pony, wondering just what he had gotten himself into, fell back onto his haunches and sat there - watching Midas gain altitude before he simply flopped over in a faint that would only last a couple of minutes. Afterwards he’d wake up, pretend it did not happen and go on his merry way - changing his mind and seeking out some fresh food before finding somewhere to nap.
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