Everest
The moment her laughter sparks down the bond, Everest’s smile deepens—subtle, but undeniably real. Not the tight-lipped polite version he wears in crowds or when expected, but something softer. Warmer. Unforced. "That’s it," he says quietly, his gaze never leaving the movement of her wings. "That’s the separation. You’re doing it."
She’s learning, and more importantly, she’s feeling it. That delicate thread between instinct and intent is beginning to show. He watches the tension ripple through her muscles, the twitch of correction and refinement already happening on its own, and gives a small, approving nod.
"Try to memorise that feeling—the weight of it. The rhythm. Where it begins and ends." His hands shift slightly, stilling her lower wings for another moment so she can isolate that motion once more. Then, gradually, he begins to loosen his grip. Not all at once. Just enough for the strands of movement to start slipping back into her control.
"I’m going to let go slowly," he says. "Keep your focus on the top set. Let the others stay quiet unless you need them." And if her wings twitch or falter, it won’t be a failure—it’ll be new data. Something to adjust. He stays close, steady, like scaffolding just beneath the surface, there if she needs it but never in the way. "When you're ready, try and add in the middle pair."
She’s learning, and more importantly, she’s feeling it. That delicate thread between instinct and intent is beginning to show. He watches the tension ripple through her muscles, the twitch of correction and refinement already happening on its own, and gives a small, approving nod.
"Try to memorise that feeling—the weight of it. The rhythm. Where it begins and ends." His hands shift slightly, stilling her lower wings for another moment so she can isolate that motion once more. Then, gradually, he begins to loosen his grip. Not all at once. Just enough for the strands of movement to start slipping back into her control.
"I’m going to let go slowly," he says. "Keep your focus on the top set. Let the others stay quiet unless you need them." And if her wings twitch or falter, it won’t be a failure—it’ll be new data. Something to adjust. He stays close, steady, like scaffolding just beneath the surface, there if she needs it but never in the way. "When you're ready, try and add in the middle pair."
even if i had to lose you to know you,
i'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through
i'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through
