Got the dreamer's disease
Stairs, unfortunately, would have alerted Isla too quickly to Fern's departure. She's made up her mind that she can scuttle down to Pretzel Planet with this very trustworthy pair of boys, after all they already work (how proactive of them), see out the game and get a treat (it is lunch time), and be back before she's even missed. This all from someone still learning how to properly tell time.
Watching the pair assemble themselves with what appears like practiced ease, she's struck for the first time by how identical they are. Well, almost, only one of them has a bird. Carlo's shout of preparedness and Calan's reassurance that they've practiced things like this, which just makes sense and doesn't require any deeper thought into why they might have, or how, all serves to embolden her that the distance is fine. Clicking her beak, which is essentially an avian thumbs up in this context, Fern hunkers down further. Her wings reach out wider, tips wavering as she strains for just one moment before decidedly plummeting off the ledge.
Having very little room to either hop or gain speed, she mostly just, tilts forward and closes her eyes. The result is the start of a deadweight summersault. Her tail flares behind her on instinct, and the rush of wind around her as she drops catches beneath her spread wings, tipping her more onto one side rather than forward now and evening out some of the descent into a forward glide. Her eyes flick open, thrilled, although it's by no means graceful and the innate design of her to find lift only helps so much without any other part of her doing more or adding a firmer breeze to the mix. She ends in a gangly crash right towards both boys and their awaiting arms, a brief screech lifting from her chest before she snaps back into a girl and arrives like a bowling ball into the pins of twins, her avian scream swapping into the small shriek of a child who can't decide if they're terrified or excited.
Watching the pair assemble themselves with what appears like practiced ease, she's struck for the first time by how identical they are. Well, almost, only one of them has a bird. Carlo's shout of preparedness and Calan's reassurance that they've practiced things like this, which just makes sense and doesn't require any deeper thought into why they might have, or how, all serves to embolden her that the distance is fine. Clicking her beak, which is essentially an avian thumbs up in this context, Fern hunkers down further. Her wings reach out wider, tips wavering as she strains for just one moment before decidedly plummeting off the ledge.
Having very little room to either hop or gain speed, she mostly just, tilts forward and closes her eyes. The result is the start of a deadweight summersault. Her tail flares behind her on instinct, and the rush of wind around her as she drops catches beneath her spread wings, tipping her more onto one side rather than forward now and evening out some of the descent into a forward glide. Her eyes flick open, thrilled, although it's by no means graceful and the innate design of her to find lift only helps so much without any other part of her doing more or adding a firmer breeze to the mix. She ends in a gangly crash right towards both boys and their awaiting arms, a brief screech lifting from her chest before she snaps back into a girl and arrives like a bowling ball into the pins of twins, her avian scream swapping into the small shriek of a child who can't decide if they're terrified or excited.
Fern
This world is gonna pull through, don't give up
