it's breaking up my bones
If Aion could fly forever and never tire, never need to land - he would. He supposed it would make up for a lifetime of being grounded, the years during which he couldn’t fly. For so long he had had only the scars on his back as a testament to his race, proof of his heritage and his lost flight.
It was a horrible thing, being a bird with sawed-off wings. ’But no longer.’ All those thoughts were left on the ground, hundreds of feet below and behind. All that mattered now was the wind in his feathers, pushing him, guiding him, carrying him. His flight was shakier now than it had been when he was younger - he was missing years of experience, after all - but he was still airborne.
He knew he couldn’t stay up in the clouds forever; his wings would grow tired and fade and so too would his heart ache for his other half (it really was only a matter of which would drive him home first.) But until then, it was only him, his wings, and the wind.
And for now, that was all that mattered.
But he wasn’t alone, not quite - ahead passed a shadow, flying faster than he could hope to match. Aion tried anyway, his wings beating heavily, clumsily, but still the distance between them grew greater. He had never seen a herd of Swifts before - was not even aware they existed - and unable to catch up, they would still remain a mystery.
When his lungs began to burn and his breath came in painful rasps, he gave up the chase. He was just beginning to turn wing and head home when another shadow, a smaller one, caught his attention.
Only this one was falling from the sky.
There was a moment of hesitation, in which he silently debated continuing home and pretending to not have seen. After all, it was just a passing glance - was he really sure that was a person falling from the sky? It was easy to ignore, to write it off as a diving bird.
But his better nature reared its head and chastised him, turning him back around in a neat 360 turn. And just like that, he too was falling from the sky, following the shadow. Wind tore tears from his eyes, clawing at his wings in an attempt to hold him back, but he persisted. On and on he went, until it seemed he would crash into the ground if he continued - only then did he flare his wings out, straining against gravity, keeping himself aloft. And there below him is a girl, striped and winged, crumbled into the ground.
And breathing.
“You’re alive!” he cries out, stumbling across the ground less-than-gracefully in his hurried attempt to land. “How are you alive?” It’s a million dollar question, and almost as tactful as his landing… but at least he hadn’t abandoned her?
@ianthe !
walk. "talk."
