I didn’t notice that anyone else had come up to see; maybe I was hyper aware of any and all eyes of criticism, but at that moment I was too wrapped up in my focus on the task at hand now that the initial fear was…handled somewhat (I’m not sure if it was ever gonna leave, to be honest). Running endless circles with Cheek beside me wasn't’ tiring me--but the strain of using a pair of wings that had never been used since the day I was born was already beginning to take its toll. Muslces that I never even knew I had were beginning to spasm and ache, but I guess that was part of the incentive, because I was pissed that I still had muscles this weak and elated at the idea of punishing them. Thankfully, Chico was too busy to make that last phrase into an innuendo.

I was getting a rhythm, I was feeling the air now and recognizing things. Currents to use as building blocks into an upward ascent. I was having trouble holding onto them (both the currents and my own mastery over my wings were too weak to get a meaningful hold) but at that moment, with gritted teeth and strained, sweat-pricked shoulders, I found some kind of balance between my steady wingbeats and a stronger current of air that gave me lift for several heart-pounding moments--

I could make you a ramp.

--but then a voice came out of nowhere and my concentration slipped, and my wings faltered and I lost my sense of the draft and I was higher than I expected and I fell faster than I was ready for and when I hit the ground my feet couldn’t find themselves--so I crashed in the most humane way, hitting the ground and stumbling to my side, rolling a few times until I skidded to a halt. Before Chico could register that I’d beefed it I was already on my feet, being pissed and embarrassed, especially after seeing who it was.

There was a moment where I couldn’t find an angle to be mad from. “What are you--” Oh, wait, she lives here. “How did you--” Oh, wait, she lives here. “Why are you--” Because she can, because she lives here. “Can’t you just--” No, of fucking course she can’t, you know exactly who she is, stop wasting your breath on that. Since there was no logical attack I could make to make her leave, then it was all gonna have to come from a place of pettiness. “No, I don’t need a ramp, go away.”

Chico came up beside me quietly, grinning and rational. Probably need a ramp.

Shut UP.

But he was right. He showed me in our heads how extra lift could help me get accustomed to the air, even if didn’t have the stamina to stay there. I snorted and shook the dirt from my side, trying my damndest to re-hide the nervousness that jumbled every corner of my body. Which meant relenting. “I’m sorry,” I said quickly, my tone stark compared to the outburst I’d given her, “I didn’t mean that, I didn’t mean any of it,  I don’t want you to leave. I just....You’re right about the ramp. You just startled me, is all.”

All of it was true--and I was beginning to find that just out-right telling her the naked truth about these things made for a smoother interaction. Doesn’t mean I liked it though; I kept my eyes sharply averted from her, as though looking into my irises would give her a hint about the tumultuous shitstorm going inside my head at the thought of real flying.


"In ornare vitae leo eu volutpat."