Carlo
It isn't the first time and nor will it be the last that Calan uses him as a climbing frame, and Carlo accepts it with the expected good-nature of a boy who will inevitably return the favour at some point in the near future. There's much more exciting matters afoot now besides, and he forgets the imprint of Calan's shoe on his shoulder to assist with their combined net of arms and the osprey about to fling herself from a window to definite safety. "Do you think maybe we should--"
Get off these crates is what he'd been about to suggest, but by then the bird has taken... er, flap? and she's wheeling unsteadily down towards them. Eyes widening, because Carlo hasn't forgotten that there's a girl in those feathers somewhere and also two sets of grown-ups who will be really mad at them if any of her bones break, what he doesn't account for is that she'll become said girl again at the point of landing.
In retrospect, probably a conversation that ought to have been had when she was still on the window sill.
In practice, a full-sized Fern collides with the Taliesin twins - who, Carlo will point out forever-more, did succeed in catching her in the basket made out of their limbs - and all three of them promptly fall from the crates, nevertheless providing a soft landing for the girl and a much bumpier landing for the twins.
Carlo's breath leaves him in an ungraceful oooof, his head bouncing off the cobbles hard enough that his vision clouds at the edges, but before he can give himself permission to decide if he's hurt enough to cry, he's laughing about it. "Ow," he wheezes, blinking up at Fern. "Hello," he adds helpfully. "I'm Carlo, and that's Calan. Our parents know each other."
Get off these crates is what he'd been about to suggest, but by then the bird has taken... er, flap? and she's wheeling unsteadily down towards them. Eyes widening, because Carlo hasn't forgotten that there's a girl in those feathers somewhere and also two sets of grown-ups who will be really mad at them if any of her bones break, what he doesn't account for is that she'll become said girl again at the point of landing.
In retrospect, probably a conversation that ought to have been had when she was still on the window sill.
In practice, a full-sized Fern collides with the Taliesin twins - who, Carlo will point out forever-more, did succeed in catching her in the basket made out of their limbs - and all three of them promptly fall from the crates, nevertheless providing a soft landing for the girl and a much bumpier landing for the twins.
Carlo's breath leaves him in an ungraceful oooof, his head bouncing off the cobbles hard enough that his vision clouds at the edges, but before he can give himself permission to decide if he's hurt enough to cry, he's laughing about it. "Ow," he wheezes, blinking up at Fern. "Hello," he adds helpfully. "I'm Carlo, and that's Calan. Our parents know each other."
today you are the king and the day belongs to you
