but now it is a competition of whichever is heavier:
my will, or the pull of gravity into the grave
my will, or the pull of gravity into the grave
From the maelstrom of background noise of wind and her own heartbeat, his voice calls out like a beacon, and she hones in on the steady thrum of his own emotions instead of her own. It's easier to bury herself in his own easy confidence in his flying, to borrow from his certainty until her own has found its footing. The blue in the corner of her eyes, sharper and with better range in this form, helps settle the brief anxiety that he might have at all left her alone up in the sky. It's not that she thinks he would do it on a personal level, but that she is so very scared of being alone - as alone as she'd been that night, in the dark and the cold, running scared and blind and wounded until her wings could carry her no more.
Though he drops down beneath her, now she knows where he is, and there is a weight eased in that. She flies straight for some time, silent and struggling to relax. Achieving it in lengthening periods of time, until she is confident enough to slowly dip one wing to arc into a slow circle. I feel like you won't let me off the hook with just this much, she manages with some small but real amount of humor. As the fear subsides and the easy repetition of flight settles in, Hotaru comes to terms with the fact that she has to learn more than the basics.
Though he drops down beneath her, now she knows where he is, and there is a weight eased in that. She flies straight for some time, silent and struggling to relax. Achieving it in lengthening periods of time, until she is confident enough to slowly dip one wing to arc into a slow circle. I feel like you won't let me off the hook with just this much, she manages with some small but real amount of humor. As the fear subsides and the easy repetition of flight settles in, Hotaru comes to terms with the fact that she has to learn more than the basics.
