Author's Note: Prompt suggested by PhoenixGirl2626.
S is for Shelter
Over time Dusty had become a bit of an albatross. His work as a racer meant he spent a growing part of his life on the wing at far flung places across the globe. But there was something that everyone tended to forget about albatrosses…even though they spent most of their lives wandering the skies, they developed incredibly loyalty to their chosen roosts on the ground. Even though it was dark, the racer could feel that he was getting close to his loadstone…his anchor in the universe. It felt so good to be heading home.
It was well passed midnight and Dusty knew airspace around Propwash Junction would be empty. He decided to take advantage of the full moon and come in low…so low in fact that his landing gear nearly brushed the stocks of corn out in the fields. He breathed in the air, smelt the scent of wet soil, and knew he was nearly home.
Gunning his engine to cover the last stretch of distance he landed on the empty airstrip with little more than a bounce. It felt so good to feel familiar asphalt under tire and to be able to make his way to bed without an escort. Yawning, he considered swinging into Honkers for a moment to grab a quick late bite to eat…but knowing how the crowd there tended to get at this time of night, he quickly decided against it. He was jet-lagged and the sooner he racked out in his hanger the better.
Trundling down the tarmac Dusty couldn't help but hope that Sparky had remembered to unlock his hanger before the little tug racked out for the night. If he didn't Dusty would probably be stuck rolling down to Honkers, after all, to see of Chug, Dot, or anyone else he had given a spare key would let him in. With the headache starting to build behind his eyes from the layer upon layer of exhaustion that his body was finally acknowledging,
His eyes were trying to flutter closed on him, when he finally arrived at the hanger…his hanger. With care he nudged the door to see if it was open and was delighted to discover that it slid open. He rushed in, quickly closing the door behind him. Dusty didn't even bother turning on the lights, instead he used memory and the faint light of the moon pouring through his windows to guide him to his final destination…a well warn sleeping mat that he loved because it cradled his body just the way he liked it.
Dusty took a few moments to allow himself to bask in the joy of being home, of being safe, of being sheltered. Then he allowed himself to sink into sleep, knowing no matter how far he wandered he would always have a home to return to.
End Note: This was short, but hopefully sweet. I am already short story for T so my fingers are crossed it will be ready to post by the end of next week!
