Nova
when fears are grounded,
Most people would say that they've never seen a bird who didn't know how to fly, that from the moment they're born, it's ingrained in them so deeply that when their moms push them from the nest, they fly.
Well, whoever happens to be roaming the lighthouse will now be able to confidently say they have.
In the graceful morning light, with birds chirping and the crisp Leafchange breeze blowing salty air across the shoreline that glitters like stars.... are the frustrated chirps of a little dreambird. Six wings try and fail to work in any form of synchrony, flapping frantically against the sands that get caught in the ruffled rainbow feathers. The movement makes it hard for its legs to stay under it, flopping to the side and chirping indignantly before flopping back the other way in a vicious (and comedic) cycle.
The young Hybrid has been at it for hours (at least that's what if feels like), the bubbly energy slowly thinning into annoyance at her inability to just fly.
When her next attempt buries her beak down, tail feathers up in the sand, she plops back in an undignified pile of limp wings. Nova shakes the sand from her head, letting out another loud squawking chirp that's a mental scream to all the gods and none of the gods all at once. Thanks for the shift, but could you send me one that isn't broken next time?!
Well, whoever happens to be roaming the lighthouse will now be able to confidently say they have.
In the graceful morning light, with birds chirping and the crisp Leafchange breeze blowing salty air across the shoreline that glitters like stars.... are the frustrated chirps of a little dreambird. Six wings try and fail to work in any form of synchrony, flapping frantically against the sands that get caught in the ruffled rainbow feathers. The movement makes it hard for its legs to stay under it, flopping to the side and chirping indignantly before flopping back the other way in a vicious (and comedic) cycle.
The young Hybrid has been at it for hours (at least that's what if feels like), the bubbly energy slowly thinning into annoyance at her inability to just fly.
When her next attempt buries her beak down, tail feathers up in the sand, she plops back in an undignified pile of limp wings. Nova shakes the sand from her head, letting out another loud squawking chirp that's a mental scream to all the gods and none of the gods all at once. Thanks for the shift, but could you send me one that isn't broken next time?!
dreams take flight
