Falling in Reverse
The feeling of freedom is almost tangible. A pair of blue eyes tracks the eagle in flight, soaring and diving through the clouds, spinning and wheeling in the perfect summer sky. Finally, the bird swoops and lands in front of him in a rustle of powerful wings. He reaches out with gentle hands to stroke the feathers back into position.
"That was amazing, Daine," he smiles, and the eagle nods briefly. He retracts his hand and watches wide-eyed as the bird shape begins to stretch and transform into a more human shape: a girl with curly brown hair and eyes the same colour as the sky. When she's finished shapeshifting, they sit side by side on the hilltop, the wind whipping at their hair and clothes.
"What's it like?" he asks after a moment. "Flying?"
Daine tilts her head thoughtfully to one side as she considers her answer. "You know what falling feels like?"
Roald nods, although he doesn't see what this has to do with flying. Falling is scraped knees and cruel laugher and blood and pain and tears and –
"Flying," says Daine, "is like falling in reverse."
Roald knows exactly what she means.
end
