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I don't see myself as someone who gives up.

Now I was.

Though it's the kind of give up where you'er just tired and you know you are going to pick it back up the next day. I stand on a small outcropping that looks out to the sea, the breeze in my mane and all that great stuff. I can smell the ocean on the wind, and even though I can see it, if I shut my eyes, I imagine someone made of water materializing beside me, their crown like a whale fluke, though I don't really know what a true whale fluke would really look like - I've hear of them. And they seem super cool.

The first time I am going to see a whale fluke is going to be with my lover on our first date -on the beach at sunset obviously- It couldn't be in the morning or afternoon, sunset. It was going to be perfect.

Today I ignore the heat and listen to the breeze in the cliff tops. I had found this outcropping a while ago and had been doing my tricks off it ever since. Though it has only been about a half and hour, I still figure it's mine for now, my eyes locked onto it at my feet, the way the sun hits it at this hour, unlike anything I've seen before. The shadow it casts below is different from anything I've seen before. I want to document this moment, -this picture- in my mind. I don't know how, and before I know it, I am taking a sort of photograph with my memory, storing it somewhere deep and dark and beautiful.

Today Wayne has strayed, and is now sitting on a nearby branch. The birdie hasn't said a thing all day, and it was already noon. I smile over at her, and nod for her to come on over. I was getting a bit lonely and tired, and like I was pondering before -quitting for the rest of the day- it now seemed like a good idea.

Since then, inside my head I've decided to take one more fly and then leave it to the wind to take me wherever. I'd fall asleep on my favorite outcropping of rock there ever was. The perfect night. I would wake up to a view of the sea, and the image of the outcropping's shadow at noon. The perfect plan, in my head.

Little did I know it was going to be put on hold.

Wayne has now made her way over to my forelock where she clings on for dear life as I fling myself off the rock, looking back one last time at the rock, and the forest fading to black behind it. It's too perfect, and I now don't know how to deal with the beauty of it all. I now extend my wings, catching the wind like a parachute, pulling me up in the sky. I start to flap until I have passed the outcropping and I am a few yards above, and before sucking my wings back into my sides for my dive, I give a wish to the gods to make this night one to never forget.

And then I tuck in my hazel and white parachutes.

Falling, it feels endless when its happening. I feel like I will never be able to feel my face or ears again. My body feels soft and rubbery as I flap in the wind. So soft and fragile I am. And I realize all this when I am up here and this feeling rushes into me.

Every time.

I'm glad it does because I need this feeling to live now, and if I ever leave it behind, I don't know what I would do. I don't really know what it is yet, perhaps a new bravery, courage, something else, perhaps? I'm curious to find out, though. I catch the wind with my parachutes once again, snapping up just above the water, my attention now back to the outside world, not just my thoughts. Though, I feel like through that whole thing, I was still aware, just not aware that I was aware. I dunno. It's difficult to explain. But when I dip from side to side in the choppy waves, the tips of my wings getting wet I laugh, the wind has picked up and I am now cold from the salt water that has flicked its way onto me. But it's not the uncomfortable kind I don't like, it's -thankfully- the soothing kind. I smile as I start to flap higher again, still above the waves enough I could smell the fresh air in mix with the sea.

Mmmm what a nice evening this was going to be.

"Hush."
@[Caleb]Oh and by the way, Bay: Wayne (her Zebra finch) is still in her forelock! <3